Finding
by PisceanPal23
Summary: There are many definitions for finding. One is the coming upon of something by chance. Another is to obtain or locate through search and effort. The last is to discover. When Greg is buried alive, and everyone searches for him, will he be found?
1. Worst Best Day Ever

**Story notes-- **

**1. I don't own these fantastic fictional creations. I can only wistfully watch them on my DVD's and on TV...which reminds me the next two episodes look to be amazing (On April 5th, return of Demetrius James brother and mom in the case, and Greg handles it...EEE!!! Look out for the eppi, called Big Shots)**

**2. _Stuff written in bold and italicized mean Greg is talking in his head_**

**3. **_Whole conversation lines italicized means that theer is a telephone conversation. _

**4. These rules wil stand throughout the whole story...if I remember:S Haha, enjoy, now to your feature presentation**

**Okay...THIS is the one I've been having problems writing...for time, I mean. This little plot bunny is the work of one remoob1513, so thank her for the plot. I found it extremely interesting, and I hope I can do it justice. I don't really have anything to say, just I hope you enjoy, and don't stab me for being slow, and for having obnoxiously long authors notes...won't happen again! Haha, here ya go!**

**CHAPTER 1: WORST BEST DAY EVER**

"Assignments, guys." Gil Grissom called, walking into the break room, calling attention to his team of CSI's like they were farm animals waiting for a meal. "And be prepared. Las Vegas is far from sleeping tonight."

"When does it ever sleep?" Catherine Willows said, flicking her strawberry-blonde hair back. She reached up and received her assignment slip from her boss. Her blue eyes flicked over the words. "Ooh, B&E in Summerlin. I'm on it."

"Warrick, you stick with me. We have to finish up on our body dump."

"Got it." The big African-American replied standing up and stretching his broad shoulders and back.

"What do I get?" Greg Sanders said, his over-eagerness showing with his kilowatt smile and peppy bouncing on the break room couch. It stopped abruptly however when Sara gave him a sharp prod in the ribs.

"Hold it, you'll get your turn."

Grissom seemed to ignore the two in the corner, and just gave out assignments. "Nick, you get a good old fashioned 419 on the strip…have fun."

Nick Stokes gave a nod, receiving his assignment slip and reclining back in his seat. Grissom walked over to where Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders sat. "Sara, you get a B&E also. This one up in Henderson."

Sara took her slip, and Greg started to bounce excitedly up and down again. "Who do I get to go with?"

Grissom gave a curt smile, and handed him a slip of his own. "Greg, m'boy, here you go. Robbery at a local gas station off the I-15."

Greg stopped bouncing, and his smile turned to a look of surprise. "No way. I get to work solo?"

"That's right." Grissom stepped back He addressed them all. "Okay guys, you know the drill. There's a lot going on tonight, so keep your eyes peeled. I don't want you to miss anything. And most importantly, stay safe. I don't want any of my CSI's hurt or in danger." A murmur of affirmatives said that they all understood. "Okay then, let's get to work."

Everyone got up except for Greg, who was stuck in his stupor. He was only awakened when a feather light touch sent a trail of fire from his shoulder through the rest of his body. He looked up and saw Sara hovering over him. "First solo case, Greggo! Are you excited?" Her smile set him beaming, the realization finally setting in.

"My first solo Sara, you know I'm bursting at the seams with excitement!" He jumped up and, hugging her tightly, swung her around the room. He didn't even seem to notice what he had done, he was that happy, but the blush on Sara's cheeks meant she had. "Okay!" He called out to her as he raced for the locker room. "Wish me luck Sar!"

Sara, still with light rouge gracing her cheeks, laughed. "Good luck Greg." She started towards the exit when he came bounding back towards her. "Uh, Greg?"

"Sara, I know that I haven't gone to my case yet, and I haven't solved it yet, but since it actually _is _my first solo case and I am super excited about it…" He drew in a breath, 'I was wondering if you'd like to go out for coffee and breakfast with me after shift, and I know what you're thinking, but it's not a date, it's just…"

"Sure Greg."

Greg stopped. "Really?"

Sara smiled at him, a sassy smile that sent his mind reeling every time he saw it. "Sure. I'll see you after shift. Good luck again, Greg. You'll do fine."

They both turned around, going to their destinations, both not noticing that the other was literally floating on cloud nine. Greg skipped happily to his locker, and as he passed the lab techs that were starting their shift, they wondered if he was actually floating on air. **_"My first solo case AND a half-date with smoking Sara Sidle?"_** His inner voice thought as he grabbed his kit and vest. **_"It must be the best day of my life."

* * *

_**

And so those same thoughts swam in his head as he pulled up to his crime scene at an old decrepit gas station off the I-15. Greg could not get the smile off his face as he grabbed his kit and headed towards the crime scene tape. He approached a woman, with long black hair who was standing in front of the store. From what Greg could see, she was small and petite. The perfect target for a robbery. The woman turned her head, acknowledging Greg, and she greeted him. "Hello. You must be from the crime lab. My name is Cammy Leanne. I work at the gas station here.

"Yeah, I am. My name is Greg Sanders. Uh…" Greg cast about. "Do you know where the police officer went?"

Cammy looked at him for a second, a scrutinizing glance, and then seemed to realize what Greg had said. "Oh, oh, they went out back, to secure the area. They said that the store is clear."

"That's okay, ma'am." Greg said. This was his first solo, and he was not about to screw up the most basic of rules. "I still have to wait to speak to the officer."

Cammy nodded. "I understand. I'll go and retrieve him for you."

Greg nodded in appreciation of the act. "Thank you. And sorry to hear about your store."

"It isn't the first time this has happened." Cammy said, almost with a sarcastic sneer. She kept on walking however, around the back of the store. Greg just stared after her, wondering, until he remembered why he was here. He had a job to do. Alone. Solo…ahh, those four beautiful letters brought a shiver of excitement tingling through his body. No telling what he'd be like if he solved his first solo. Maybe a breakfast treat from Nick, or some betting fun with Warrick, or maybe…just maybe…a _full_ date with Sara.

However, his reverie was brought to a screeching halt when Cammy came back with a police officer Greg had not recognized before. "Here is the officer, Mr…Sanders." Cammy said upon her return, greeting him with his last name which she had attained from his vest.

"Hey." Greg greeted the officer.

"Got the scene cleared." Was the officer's curt reply.

Greg looked at him oddly. "Uh…have I met you before?"

"No, no." The man replied quickly. "I'm a rookie here. Names Officer Cal Echo. Good to _finally _meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." Greg replied, shaking hands with the man. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to process the scene." He looked at Cal. "Have you taken her statement?"

"No sir, but I'll do that now." He led Cammy away, and left Greg to do what he did best.

Process a crime scene.

"_**Simple enough,"** _Greg thought as he approached the door, _**"It's only a robbery. Hopefully just find some fingerprints, maybe some trace…"** _He smiled at the thought of an easy case.

He entered the building, and looked about. The store was like any other gas station you'd find off the I-15, albeit a little run-down. The whirr of the freezers in the far left corner made the place seem a million times more lively than it was, being deserted, and the ancient cash register that was on the counter to his immediate right was just begging to be forced open and its treasure inside taken. Greg set down his kit near the door, and hauled out a pair of gloves. Standard procedure. He wouldn't even screw that up in the lab. Then he got to work. On every surface, he checked for hairs or anything else out of the ordinary. On every surface, he dusted and checked for prints. He did everything by the books. He was ready, prepared, but not for anything like he was about to see.

He walked into the bathroom of the place, to see if the perp had lost anything, purposefully or not (including his DNA) in the bathroom, but his eyes were met with a much more gruesome, horrific site. _**"Someone seriously put an understatement on this crime scene."** _Greg thought as he looked at the blood spattered on the wall. **_"Did someone say robbery? This looks like murder."_**

And it was true. On every surface, including the ceiling, blood lay dripping in pools like stalactite caverns. The dripping noises of the blood made Greg sick to his stomach, but he kept his cool. The light filtering through the windows of the bathrooms were deep crimson. It cast an eerie glow about the place. Greg's breath caught in his throat. He flipped open his phone, and dialled the familiar number to LVPD. "Brass, it's Greg Sanders. I'm working the case out off the I-15." His breathing got heavier as he got more paranoid. "It was called as a robbery, but there's blood everywhere here."

"_What? There was no blood there when my guy called it in."_

"Yeah, about that, what's the idea of sending a rookie out alone? Aren't you supposed to train them first with a mentor or something? I think officer Cal Echo may have missed something." Greg's fright was causing him to become snippy.

"_Rookie? I sent a veteran out there, just because it was your first solo. And who the heck is Cal Echo?"_

"**_A veteran? Then where is he…uh oh…"_** Greg was starting to become terrified now, and was going to tell those exact words to Jim Brass.

Greg never got to voice his opinions however, as Brass's voice could be heard again. _"Don't move Sanders. Just pretend like you don't know anything, and you're just processing another scene. We'll get there as soon as we can."_

"Thanks…" Greg said, flipping his phone closed. Greg felt like he was in a plastic bag, so he took a few deep breathes to calm himself down. He gritted his teeth in determination to not let this bother him and he set to work, or pretending to, until help arrived.

Not a second later however, Greg felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle up. With cat like reflexes, he jumped up and swiveled, in time enough to miss the attack on him by the raven-haired Cammy Leanne.

"Damn." She swore lightly, taking back her brandished weapon. She ran her fingers along the fine metal of the hypodermic needle delicately. "Missed."

Then it hit Greg like a two-tonne vehicle. Painfully obvious. "Cammy Leanne. Chameleon." He backed away, putting his hands out in the peaceful gesture taught to all law enforcement. He didn't even bother to worry about the blood, as he heard the squelching noises come from the soles of his now ruined sneakers. "Who are you?"

"That's the problem, Gregory." She said calmly. "You never did know me."

Greg's eyes widened. "How do you know…?"

She cut him off. "Maybe the question is, how could I forget, which is the exact question I want to ask you!" She screeched, and she ran after him again, holding the needle threatening. However, Greg wasn't going to go down without a fight, and he caught he arms as she came upon him.

"Let me _go!_" She screeched as he held her back. She was strong for appearing so petite, he'd give her that, but Greg also deceived the eye. He easily wrenched her arm, allowing the needle to fall harmlessly to one of the only spots on the floor not tainted by the scarlet lake.

"Who are you?" Greg repeated, still holding her forcefully by the wrists.

She looked up at him with her large eyes that, Greg noticed for the first time, were of a light purple…purple… "You'll have to find that out for yourself."

"How about you tell me?" Greg said, this time using more force. He had taken enough bull from this woman. He pushed her against the door of a stall. "Answer me, damn it!"

She smiled, causing Greg to look at her, face and deep brown irises openly showing his confusion and fear. "I won't have to."

"Why is…" Greg started before he actually felt like a two-tonne vehicle ran him over. Just pain. He fell to his knees, his jeans becoming soaked in the blood, and he lifted his hands from the floor, seeing his prints stare back at him. He tried to get up, but he felt a strong being come and bring his arms under Greg's, and he felt them connect around his neck, successfully restraining him. Greg, even with his head throbbing, jumped and struggled, but he was only wearing himself out.

Still he did not stop until he was physically completely out of strength. Panting, sweat dripping from his damp sandy blonde curls, he watched with a venomous glare at the woman, who very egotistically stooped to pick up her weapon once more. She smiled a sly smile. "Thank you, Cal."

Greg tried to move once more out of his grasp, but he was pinned fast. Cal pushed Greg out more, causing his shoulders to sear in pain. He grimaced only. "Why are you doing this?"

Cammy came close to Greg, seductively swaying her hips. Greg tried to struggle again, but found himself helpless to defend against the woman. She leaned against Greg, her thighs against his, chest against chest. Only their faces never touched, hers only an inch from his. "If you find out who I am, then you'll know." She allowed her lips to brush against his, and Greg felt a sharp pinch on his stomach. He kicked out his legs, successfully hitting her in the torso.

With a scream, she fell back into the blood. Greg felt his attackers grip loosen, and he took this time to pull one of the self-defense moves Sara had taught him. Freeing one arm from the hold, he grabbed Cal's wrist and applied pressure to a certain point near the thumb. Cal doubled over and screeched in pain, and Greg ran as fast as he could out of the bathroom.

Greg hopped over all the debris that lay in his way, but as he entered the full sunlight of the Las Vegas day, he staggered. Suddenly, the sky and earth were split vertically in his vision, and he fell to his hands and knees once more in vertigo. Sudden nausea made him vomit, and he fell over to his side in exhaustion and pain. His hand wandered to his stomach, where he felt the needle stick loosely out of his skin. He ripped it from it's place with very little precision, ripping the skin slightly and it bled lightly. In his deteriorating state, he hid the needle half sticking out of the sand. Maybe they'd find his killer.

He thought of the lab, how he had failed his first solo case. He thought of how his mother would take the news of his death, of who the lab would find to replace him. His world got hazier, like an old T.V. that played nothing but static. His last thoughts before his conscious went were of Sara, and how he would never make their half-date…


	2. How Could This Have Happened?

**A/N: Don't own nothing that earns more than $20 an hour. You know what I'm talking about. **

**Oka, this chapter, is a bit more boring, but next chapter I promise you will be better;) More drama, and action, and all that stuff you love in a fic! Enjoy! Oh...and I love everyone who has read and/or reviewed! You guys are awesome, and it givs me a great felling to see you all like it! It is my pleasure to write more for your entertainment!:D

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CHAPTER 2: HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED?

_Bump._

Greg opened his eyes slightly, so that a sliver of dim light shone through to his pupils. That was too much, and he closed them again.

His head was splitting, and he ached all over. His stomach was flipping over like a gymnast. Was this what death felt like?

_Bump._

Greg groaned as he knocked his head against the ceiling of his current enclosure. Nope. He still felt stuff. He was definitely alive, but certainly not well. He forced his eyes to look into the surroundings, although they did not have far to span. All he saw was muted light coming from the seams of wherever he was, and a hole to his left near the seam. He was still too affected by whatever drug was in his system to realize he was in the trunk of a moving vehicle, driving further away from anybody that could help him.

He did realize the need to leave the small cramped space, so he tried to shift his position. Only he couldn't. Even if he was drugged, he realized the fact that he was held fast with duct tape and that he was captured. He was in serious trouble. Greg tried to struggle, but his body protested in every movement, and his eyes soon started to water with the effort. He took a few calming breaths and lying back once again he tried to concentrate.

But that was easier said than done when you felt like you came home from a _really_ rough night at the local bar.

He shut his eyes forcefully, trying to figure out what was happening. **_"I was working my first solo…" _**His mind could only remember that far. His date! He had a date with Sara. She had finally taken him up on his offer because he was on his first solo case. But why was he here now?

_Bump._

The car hit another pothole and Greg felt himself being forced into the back of the trunk. He did really not like how things were looking. He would have screamed if either he had thought of it or it would do any good, but neither scenario occurred. Instead, Greg did the only thing he could have done. He took his legs, also bound together, and started to kick into the ceiling of his confinement. His strength was flagging, but he still managed to put in a few good dents, but a lot of good that did him. He was still stuck in this offending metal box.

Screech. 

Greg was sent hurtling headfirst into the other side of the car's trunk as it skidded to a halt, his forehead connecting with metal. It was enough to send the semi-conscious Greg into full-out darkness once again. He did not notice where they were, nor did he see the two people opening the trunk, and lift him roughly from it, and neither was he prepared for what was about to happen.

* * *

It was not even twenty minutes after Greg had made his call to Brass when he arrived at the old gas station off the I-15. Jim Brass, a stout police detective, studied his surroundings, the fear inside him already at a maximum. He was afraid for what had happened to the young CSI, because he was nowhere in sight.

The events taking place there weren't helping him at all either. In the parking lot, Greg's vehicle was a skeleton and charred remains. Someone had torched it, and the store was still being licked with flame and purple smoke as firefighters fought it. The damage from smoke, fire and water would make it near impossible to find anything probative, but they had to think positive. Brass was now waiting for someone from the Crime Lab to check out the scene.

Something was not right at all here.

"We can't find a trace of him anywhere, Jim." Sofia Curtis came up next to him, her blonde hair a mess from the wind. She had the same expression of worry and fear plastered across her face as Brass imagined he had on his. "We did find two bodies though, and a trail of blood leading from the back of the store to a small hole. One was identified as Officer Rawst, the other I assume is the actual storekeeper. What are we going to tell Grissom and the team?"

Brass sighed heavily. "When they get here, we tell them that their youngest CSI has been possibly kidnapped, and that he's missing."

Sofia nodded solemnly. "I hope they can do something." Silently she added, for her ears only, "How could it happen to Greg?"

"Yeah." Agreed Brass. "Me too." Yet Brass had overheard her last comment and agreed with it also. He looked at the skid marks in the parking lot of the station and could only assume the worst. He wished that time would go faster.

But time never heeds the wishes of mere mortals, and another fifteen minutes passed before the familiar Crime Lab vehicle came hurtling over the I-15, and turned into the lot. Brass watched as Nick and Warrick hopped out, oblivious to what they were about to hear.

"Brass." Warrick called out, walking over to his colleague. He gestured to the flames. "What's this about? This wasn't an arson case."

"Yeah, and…wait!" Nick said, joining them but recognizing the station. "Wait…off the I-15…wasn't this Greg's case?" Nick asked, and then he saw the scent dogs. Brass' expression only confirmed his slowly forming theory. "What happened to Greg?" Nick said, his voice shaking.

"This was Greg's case?" Warrick asked, looking about at the scene also. "And isn't that Greg's car?"

"Guys…" Brass started slowly, trying to compose himself, "Greg's missing." The looks Nick and Warrick gave him at that moment made him want to run and hide away. "He called me only an hour ago, and said that something wasn't right. The police officer I sent to check the scene over is dead, and someone posed as him and…and I think he was kidnapped."

Nick remained silent, his emotions betraying him as his eyes watered. Warrick, however, knew he had to remain relatively staid. "Where do we start?" Nick looked at his friend, and gave a nod, blinking his tears away.

"Okay." Brass said, switching to Captain mode, "The bodies of Officer Rawst and who we assume is the storekeeper are out back, Sofia will brief you. I'm going to make the necessary calls. Everyone I can get is going to work this case. We'll find him." He added softly.

Warrick and Nick nodded, and started to walk to the back of the store. They were scared, and they didn't even try to hide it. But they knew what they had to do.

They had to try and get their friend back, they best way they knew how. Forensics.

"C'mon, 'Rick." Nick said, his Texan drawl more apparent in his voice with the added fear. "I see Sofia."

"And I see bloody prints." Warrick said, looking at the paved lot underneath him. "I'll handle these, you go to Sofia."

"Got it." Nick said, now taking off at a jogging pace to Sofia. Warrick sighed and sat himself down. **_"Greg, you better be okay," _**He thought to himself, as if Greg could hear him. He opened his kit, and started working on the bloody shoe impressions with a purpose. He was working the prints that normally took painstakingly long to do in only a few minutes. **_"How could this have happened?"_**

And it was these exact thoughts that the whole graveyard shift was having as they slowly got the news. Grissom, who was left to finish up the body dump case when Warrick got called, received the news as soon as Warrick and Nick arrived on the scene. And he, in turn, alerted Catherine, who was just returning from a false alarm of a B&E in Summerlin. The two drove to the scene as fast as they could to help.

The only one left to know on the team was to alert Sara, but no one could reach her.

And then. Then was the worst part. Brass grimaced as he started dialling the number, his hands shaking as he struggled to keep from hanging up. _"Hello. Sanders residence." _A voice on the other line said, he voice having a slight accent.

Brass let out a sigh. "Hello, Mrs. Sanders? I have some bad news about your son…"

* * *

The sun was setting. Too much time was passing. Grissom looked up at the setting Nevada sun, and he clenched his fists. They were going too slow, time too fast. He looked around at his team as they finished up on their evidence collection. Nick was finishing up with the bodies that were half covered in the exposed sand. Warrick, after collecting the show impressions, had gone in with Catherine to se what they could salvage from the burning remains of the store. And Grissom? He was trying to piece it all together. What the heck happened? He glanced over the burnt remains of Greg's car, trying to find more off of it, but it was just too badly damaged. Not even a plastic credit card would be salvageable.

He turned to see his team slowly group around him. Warrick held Catherine as she silently sobbed, and Nick's deep brown eyes betrayed that he was very affected, and scared for his friend. Grissom sighed, and started to act the leader once more. "Okay guys, we have a big job here. One of our own is missing, and we need to find him as soon as we can. We need to move fast. Get back to the lab, and get the stuff you have processed. Get your results, and report back to me so that we can analyze it. Let's go."

And they left for the lab, with heavy hearts set in determination for finding their young CSI, protégé, and friend.

But not all were feeling this sadness. No, Sara Sidle was rainbows and butterflies when she came into the lab after collecting her evidence on a routine B&E at Henderson. It turned out that a neighbour's teenage son tried to get into the house to see the resident teenage girl. Adorable, in an, 'I-broke-the-law-and-a-window' kind of way. Sara found it all quite amusing that the guy would try and be the modern-day Romeo. Not many guys were as debonair anymore; except for the one she was meeting in a few minutes.

She opened her locker, and changed into some fresh clothes. She had to look as good as she could without making it seem she tried anything fancy. That was Sidle rule number one. Number two was to not let anyone melt her heart as easily as Hank or Grissom once had. **_"Well,"_** She concluded as she imagined curly blonde hair and gorgeous brown eyes, **_"Failed that one."_**

In truth, she really liked Greg. I mean, _really_ liked Greg. He was an enigma; indefinable. But any way you put it to Sara, he was very likable indeed, and she was definitely looking forward to her date.

But any and all happiness drained from her when Nick walked into the locker room, looking much, much older, more worried, and very unwell. He didn't even see her as he punched the locker in frustration, making his knuckles turn red.

"Nick?" Sara asked loudly, surprised to see her friend this way.

Nick turned to see her, and the colour ran from his face. "Oh, Sara…we've been trying to call you. Something's happened."

Her blood froze, and her stomach ran away. Her face also went very pale all of a sudden. "Nick." She stated much more calmer then she felt at the moment, "What's wrong?"

But all Nick managed to say was Greg's name before Sara's knees buckled underneath her and she plummeted into Nick's arms. Nick helped steady her as she regained the use of her body. When they both stood, Sara was still visibly shaking, but her eyes let loose no tears. The implications of what Nick had just told her were too great for that. They called for action.

Nick felt Sara take his hands for support and she looked at him, fierceness in her eye like Nick hadn't seen before. "Just tell me what I need to do."


	3. Six Feet Under

**This was a chapter I liked. Now we're getting into the actual brunt of Greg's capture. And no, I'm not a sadist, but somehow seeing Greg being tortured is something I love to read and, as I've discovered, write. However, I'm depending on you to tell me if it needs a ratigs boost, just in case in later chapters...but I doubt it. Anyways, enjoy the next chapter...and for future reference, I'm really into writing this story, so updates should come quickly, and with Easter break coming, I have lots of free time (but as it is with all hobbies, the more time you have, the less fun they become...) oops, rambling...anyways, enjoy, and wish me luck in my drivers permit test this upcoming Thursday...whoot!

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CHAPTER 3: SIX FEET UNDER

It was night.

Well…Greg couldn't be too sure of that. All he knew was darkness. His eyes were closed, and he saw darkness, but when they opened, it was still dark. He had just woken up, and his head no longer ailed him…too much. What was hurting him now was the fact that he was still trapped by six walls. And whatever he lay on felt smooth, and made his skin stick when it rubbed against it. His neck was sore too.

He could hardly breath. Wherever he was, it was sickly warm, and he was sweating profusely. The heat was also making his nauseous stomach worse. And the air, thick like a humid summer day, made it hard for him to breath. It was a good thing he wasn't claustrophobic, because he would be freaking out by now.

Not that he wasn't scared, but what could he do?

He started to squirm again. He kicked out again and again against the walls, and he flailed his arms. He had to stop when he figured out that it was glass he was trapped in, and that it wasn't going to break anything but his bones. He panted from the effort, and he started to feel about with his hands, but nothing was there except six glass walls.

He couldn't even remember how the hell he had gotten here. The last thing he remembered was…feelings. Excitement, nervousness, and that indescribable feeling he got when he talked with Sara. That was his favourite feeling. But now Sara was pushed to the back of his mind for once in his life as he fought to remember.

"Hello?" He called out, quietly at first, but then he screamed it at the top of his lungs. "Hello! Someone help me!"

Out of the blue, Greg's eyes were blinded momentarily by a ray of light. He squinted against it briefly, and then he saw what surrounded him outside his little glass box and it sent him into a fit of panic. Dirt. Lots of dirt, pebbles, roots…

He was underground.

"Someone help me!" He screamed as he started to struggle again. He kicked and punched and wriggled whatever way he could, trying and hoping that somehow it would get him out of this hellhole. "Help me! Someone get me out!"

His stress reached a maximum, and he was left panting, sweating and shivering, and whimpering in fear. He took huge breathes of the thick air, and calmed himself as much as he could. He could still see his surroundings; the light that had appeared from above had not disappeared.

"Who's up there?" Greg asked to nothing, having nothing else to try.

"Poor little Greg, lost and scared, six feet under the ground." The voice. He recognized that voice. He had heard it before. At a case…the scene? **_"My first solo case!" _**And then everything came back to him in a flash of light and memory. His excitement, his date with Sara, his determination to make sure everything went well, his fear for his life, and the pain he felt.

His mind was reeling. "Cammy?" He coughed, the fear inside him making his lungs feel empty, yet near bursting. His chest heaved as he tried to calm himself down. "Is that you?"

He heard a brusque laugh from above him, faint from the ground that separated them, but he could feel the cold air rush in to meet him from the opening above. It was refreshing, and he relished in it.

"No. It's not Cammy, I thought you'd figured that out the last time we had a chat. And you hurt Cal's feelings, not remembering him."

Greg emitted a low growl. "Right. Chameleon. It was a pseudo name. And Cal Echo? That was a pseudo name too, right?"

"Well…" He heard her taunting tone above him, and it made him frustrated. "Kind of. Cal is his first name." She giggled like a schoolgirl. "But come on Gregsy, can't we just talk?"

"If you'll let me out, I'm all for talking." Greg said, just trying to make her keep the only portal to the outside world opened.

"You know I can't do that. Cal would get mad. And besides, you'd probably run off with another woman like you did the last time."

Greg was not just frustrated now, but full out bewildered. Just who was the person behind this crime? "Run off with another woman?" He asked her, "You act like we were dating…"

"We _are_, you son of a bitch!" She screamed all of a sudden, with passion that made Greg jump in his small pen.

"Wait, what?" Greg said, panicking and trying to fix whatever had set her off. "I didn't mean it…"

He heard soft crying above him. "I'm going to walk away now, and give you some time to think. When I come back, I expect you to remember everything, and to say you're sorry."

"Wait…" Greg said, as he heard shuffling above her. Then, with wide eyes he saw the light fading from his enclosure, and the cool air from the world above being shunted. "NO! Wait!" He yelled, but she had already closed the little pipe leading to him. He was lost in the darkness and recycled air.

Greg sobbed a few times, but managed to not break down completely. He had to think. That was what he had to do to get out of this mess alive. Think. And it hit him easily enough. He had to stay alive until someone found him, or until he could talk her in to letting him out so he could escape. That would mean Greg had to stop suffering from foot-_in_-mouth disease and play it cool.

Sara.

Sara now popped into his minds eye, bringing a slight smile to his face even in his current situation. He had to stay alive for her. She would be his motivation. And, with her in his mind, he started to think of a plan.

* * *

"Okay guys, what do we have?" Grissom rubbed his eyes wearily as his team of CSI's, Brass and Sofia gathered with their combined knowledge. "We know what the stats are. Usually when a person is missing for more than 48 hours, they're dead. So that means that for the next 48 hours, our only priority is finding Greg. So lets hear it."

Brass started. "Sanders called me about noon, and told me that something was up. I had asked officer Rawst to go there and secure the scene for Greg, because I could trust him. However, Greg said a rookie was there and that he seemed shady."

"Did he say what the officers name was?" Sara asked. She was still quite pale, but she seemed to be holding her own.

"Yeah, Said his name was Cal Echo." Grissom gave a large sigh. "What's wrong?"

"Cal Echo, as in calico."

Brass looked at him oddly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Animals with calico colours are camouflaged from things, such as Cracker Butterflies. Their wings have the pattern of an owl, and scares or wards other predators away. In other words…"

"It's a taunting fake." Sara finished. "Damn it, he didn't realize until too late."

"What did we find at the scene?" Grissom said, hoping to God for good news.

"Well…" Nick started, clearing his throat, "I looked at the bodies of both Officer Rawst and the store owner, ID as Mr. Kevin Cooper. Both were dragged there from inside the store, and dumped into a ditch in the back of the store lot. Never got much off them. Both died from extensive stab wounds to the major arteries. They bled out somewhere else though."

"That would be inside the bathroom of the station," Warrick said, showing his findings. "Bathroom sustained very little damage from the fire, which was set in the main area. We collected a lot of prints, hairs, and lots if stuff…all of it in _blood_. Bathroom walls, floor and ceiling were covered in blood belonging to both vics. Someone didn't clean up after themselves. Bad news here though. Three prints were there, two were unknown, and one was Greg's."

"Greg wouldn't do something so rookie unless he was pushed into the blood." Sara said.

"Yeah. Also, there were his footprints in the blood along with two others, came back to a heel shoe and a size twelve Adidas sneaker. Here's what the prints tell us:

"Greg was kneeling near the blood pool, about to start collection, when he stepped into the blood…here." He pointed to a picture as he explained his theory. "Then, he backed up, and it seems like these heels were coming at him slowly, and then running. The stop here, and then, Greg pushed them over here, near a stall, shown by the sliding pattern. Then, it seems like the size 12 sneaker had climbed in through the window and hid in the stall…here. The sneaker came behind Greg and caused him to fall here, where his prints are."

"Probably a blow to the head." Grissom said quietly.

"And then, Greg seems to struggle here." Warrick said, pointing to lots of smudges on the floor. "Then, the heel print walks over to here, near the stall, and then walks over to Greg, really close too."

"How close is that?" Sara asked.

"If they weren't touching, they were damn close to it." Warrick said, making Sara's blood boil. "Then, There's a round impression here, and backwards hands prints."

Sara got an amused look. "He fought back, and he made her fall."

"Yeah, I'd say. Then, there are two round impressions here, probably Adidas' knee prints, and then Greg's footprints, leading into the burned part of the store. From the spaces, it looks like he was running."

"He managed to run away?" Sara said, hopes rising in her heart. **_"He fought so hard, so brave..."_** "Did he manage to escape?"

Grissom's face fell. "I know that one." He took out pictures of his own, of bloody prints and vomit in the desert sands. "This…" He said sullenly, "All matched Greg's. And some of the blood there matched his own, but only a trickle."

Sara looked at it, her heart plummeting as fast as it had risen. "Then, he was probably drugged?" Catherine said, looking forlornly at the pictures.

The air was dense with dread as the implications set in. Greg was putty in their hands if he was drugged. _If_, that is, he was still alive.

But no one would dare to think like that. Especially Sara.

"Umm," Warrick began again, "Then, we see the same two unknown prints come out of the store, and pick up Greg, and carry him to another vehicle. Then, the prints go all over the place, and some are mixed with kerosene, and then they go back to the car and drive off. I have the tire treads here." He said, showing Grissom. "They belong to a Sunfire."

"Good." Grissom said. "It's not much, but it's something."

"Griss, we need more to go on!" Sara said, leaning on the table. "There's no way we can find him with just a car tread to go on. We don't even know where they went!"

"Sara, calm down." He said, rubbing his eyes as his head started throbbing.

"**_No_ **Grissom, I will **_not _**calm down!" Sara said, her composure deteriorating. "Greg is out there, and he's going through God knows what, and I feel so God damn _helpless_!"

Grissom sighed. He did not need his CSI's breaking down in front of him, adding to the troubles. "I understand Sara, but you need to calm down before you can do anything to help. Nick, take her to the break room, and get her calmed down?"

Nick looked between him and Sara, and quickly nodded. "Sure. I'll be right back." The team nodded, and he led Sara from the crowded layout room.

Once inside the break room, and coffee's in hand, Sara's resolve to not speak broke. "Nick, it's not fair! We should be out there with the search parties, or doing _something_ more to help Greg!"

Nick turned on her suddenly, her face exploding with inexplicable emotion. Mixtures of rage, frustration, fear. "No one is giving up Sara! And we can only do what we do best! It may not feel like a lot, but we're doing our part!" He breathed in large gulps of air, and then said, in a much calmer tone. "I understand your frustration Sara, I feel it too. But we are helping him in our own special way. We'll find him, don't worry. Now," He said, walking out of the room again, "You coming?"

Sara shook her head, much to Nick's surprise. "I'm not ready. I need to…think things out more, so I can help."

Nick nodded to her. "Okay honey. You know where to find us if you need us."

"Yeah." She said, giving a smile of appreciation. "Thanks Nick, I needed this."

Nick nodded as he headed out the door, leaving Sara alone with her thoughts in turmoil. As soon as she knew she was alone, she let a single tear roll down her cheeks. How could this have happened? She should have told him sooner, that she liked him. **_"I should have done a million things,"_** She thought bitterly, **_"But I didn't. And now it may be too late." _**She knew it wasn't too late yet. She kenw that her heart would shatter into a million pieces that would never fit together again if he were gone.

Call it women's intuition, call it a bond of very close friendship, but she knew deep down that he wasn't gone yet.

And she would have to be the one to find him.

"_No miss, you can't go in there!" _Was that Judy Tremont, the secretary, Sara heard?

"_You listen to me! Let me in or I will claw your eyes out!" _Screeched a woman from the reception area.

Sara jumped up and ran towards the reception area, and was met by a sight of complete awe. She looked over the scene and she was sure her jaw dropped.

An older, blonder, _female _version of Greg Sanders was battling it out with Judy and another tech to get into the lab. "Stop, stop it!" Sara said, as she jogged over to them. She placed a hand around the Greg doppelganger and dragged her into the break room direction. "Don't worry Judy, I'll take care of her." Judy wasn't about to argue, and left Sara to what she wanted.

Sara led the woman, who had suddenly turned silent, and brought her into the break room. She sat her down, and rushed to make her coffee as if she were a guest at her house she were trying to impress. She brought the cup to the woman, and Sara sat down across form her.

The next few moments were agony, as the woman bore holes into Sara, sizing her up like a slab of meat or a head of lettuce at the supermarket. It made Sara appallingly self-conscious, and she constantly found things she had to fix, like her shirt or jeans.

But it was the woman who started. Her accent Sara could only identify as Norwegian. "You are Sara Sidle, right?" Sara nodded, at a loss for words. "I need to speak with you, about my son, Gregory. I'm Lillian Sanders…"


	4. Hear Your Voice

**Once again, school is becoming a really big pain...I'd really like to know what _normal _school is like...you know, the one where teachers can control students and you can actually do work! The only time that happens here is when you get to do an online course...the teachers in Spaniards Bay and Cow Head can teach circles around the ones home...well, our principle, anyways...**

**But, no one needs to hear my incessant ramblings..but understand that it means that a load of school work has been dropped on me, so it may be a little while before I can work on my story (don't fret: the most it will set me back is a day). However, to tide you over, here is another chapter...enjoy, and thanks to everyone who had read/reviewed...you guys make my day:D

* * *

**

CHAPTER 4: HEAR YOUR VOICE

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sanders." Sara said, as her voice found her again, though shaky as it was.

"Call me Lily, dear." The woman said, taking Sara's hands in her own. "And don't be sorry. You had nothing to do with his disappearance." She sighed, closing her eyes and looking to the ceiling. "You know, Miss Sidle, my son speaks very highly of you. And I hope you can help me"

Sara blushed, but her interest was caught by her last comment. "Call me Sara. And I don't know how I can help." Sara stopped, her voice breaking. "I can't even keep my cool long enough to even help Greg now, honestly."

"Please." Sara looked at the woman, the sombre passion in her voice surprising Sara, as she was a second ago very composed. "Just tell me the answers to everything that you know the answer to. I have so many questions…I'm so confused, lost…"

Sara nodded to her, her resolve to not compromise the case thrown out the window like everything else in this case. "I'll do what I can."

Lily looked at her. "Thank you…Sara." She took a deep breath. "How did my son get kidnapped?"

"Well," Sara began also, "He was at a crime scene…"

"Why was he there?" Lily cut in. Her expression was still painted with confusion.

Sara, who was usually a little impatient, did not mind being stopped mid-sentence. "He works in the field now. It was his first solo case, and the police officer who was securing the scene was murdered."

"My little Gregory was out in the field?" Lily whispered. "Since when?"

Sara was shocked. His mother hadn't known? "For about a year now."

Lily was obviously in shock. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish. But she soon was snapped out of it by Sara's comforting touch on her shoulder. "It's okay. We'll find him."

Lily chuckled a bit, with a sad smile on her face. Upon seeing Sara's look, however, she spoke, answering Sara's unspoken question. "Sara dear, saying you'll 'find' someone is a very broad thing."

"What do you mean?"

"As my father always said, 'finding has many definitions. One is to come upon something by chance, another is to find through effort and searching, and another is to discover'. And quite honestly, I'd never survive if Greg's body were 'discovered' or 'found by chance'. That just isn't good enough."

Sara silently agreed with Lily. "We're going to find Greg, alive, Lily. I wouldn't have it any other way, and I will _not _lethim go, even if I have to turn the desert upside down to find him." Sara surprised even herself with her words, but she knew she meant them, and Lily seemed to recognize the sincerity in them also, and smiled encouragingly. Then Sara started the conversation where it had left off. "Papa Olaf was your father, am I right? He was a wise man. Greg spoke very highly of him as well."

Lily smiled. "Yes, Greg spent a lot of time with him as a young boy." Then, she changed the conversation. "Why was he taken?"

"We don't know yet." Sara replied. "All we know is that he was taken while on scene, and that whoever took him was a couple, a man and a woman."

"Sara, I know that I can't be much help, but when you go back to the case, if you need me, ask me anything, and tell me if you have any new news."

Sara nodded. However, her mind was lost in what Lily had said. It had sparked something in her, and something in her mind had clicked. **_"Finding something by chance…through search and effort…discover…"_**

But she was interrupted before she could get her head around what her instincts were screaming at her. She turned her head to see a very serious looking Catherine. "Sara, you need to come quick…" She looked at Lily. "Who is this?"

"She's Greg's mom, Lillian. Now what's the matter Catherine?"

Catherine nodded in the general direction of Lily, and then looked towards Sara again. "We just got a phone call. It's Greg's kidnapper."

* * *

"**_Forever must feel like absolute shit," _**Greg though miserably as he shifted again, from one uncomfortable position to another. Only an hour had passed, but with no light, no sound, no fresh _air _even, it felt like he had died and been resurrected over fifty times. He was waiting now for his captor, or captors, to come and see if they would forgive him for whatever it is that he did.

He did have a plan to find out what that was, but he needed them to come first.

For now, his only saviour was the apparition of the spunky fiery brunette of all his wildest, romantic fantasies. He kept his eyes open, hoping for the light that would shine above him, but in the vast endless darkness he could envision her as plain as the brightest Las Vegas day.

He could only imagine what her lips would feel like against his lips, her skin against his with their sweat and tears mingled as one as she allowed him closer to her than she had ever allowed anyone, and that vast trust and knowledge is what he craved even more than her body. He craved her mind. That was what he called true attraction.

His dreams were all that remained to him here. That is, until he was returned to the light and the pipe above him opened up above his torso once more. He heard the familiar voice again, thankfully much more calmer than before. **_"If you could call a crazed psychopath calm." _**Greg thought.

"Have you given it some thought, Gregsy?" She called, with some traces of pique in the undertones.

Greg grimaced, but he swallowed his pride. "Yes, I have sweetie, and I'm sorry. I was just a bit angry with you, that's all. I'm truly sorry for what I did and I'll never do it again."

Greg was proud with his performance, and he was even happier when she seemed to buy it. "Oh Greg, that's all I wanted you to say!" She paused. "But you still have to be punished for what you did."

Greg's blood froze. "W-what punishment?"

He heard a cackle. "We'll see, won't we? It's not only you that needs to be punished. I need to teach a lesson to that little slut that tried to take you away from me."

He started to panic again. He never knew what she was talking about before, and now that he was about to find out, he was worried. For himself and whoever the mystery woman was that he supposedly gone out with and was trying to steal him away.

It especially vexed him that he hadn't had a date in almost a year. He could not understand who this chick was. Ever since he started in the field, strained schedules and overtime had cut down on his 'bachelor-esque' activities. Not that women never caught his eye anymore, on the contrary, he did flirt on the occasional time he went bar-hopping with the guys, but he only wanted a relationship with one woman.

That's when his stomach fell, and his instincts told him he knew whom the mystery woman was.

He never heard Cammy for a few minutes, and he was left alone to his silence again until he heard her scream. "If you don't get the _bitch_ online now I swear he will die a drawn out painful death!"

Greg gulped. He didn't exactly like the implications of those words. He heard a very angry, resigned sigh. "If it will get her on the phone faster, sure. Hold on."

Greg saw a telephone receiver drop down the hole. "Take the phone, Greg. Some of your pals from the Crime Lab want to talk to you." Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "If you say something about who I am, I'll make sure you suffer the consequences. I need trust in a relationship."

Greg, still scrunched up in the tiny glass box, manoeuvred his arm so that he grabbed on to the receiver, and brought it to his face. If it weren't such a dire situation, he'd be ashamed of his quivering voice as he spoke into the phone. "Guys?"

_"Greg, buddy, is that you? Are you okay?"_

Hearing Nick's voice on the other line made him break down. "Please help me guys…I'm buried un-underground and I don't know where I am...I-I'm scared."

"_Hang in there, Greg." _Nick's voice was laced with concern, but just hearing it made Greg so much more at ease, even under the circumstances. _"Can you tell us anything about your kidnapper?"_

With the threats still fresh in his mind, Greg wracked his brain to come up with words that Nick would understand, but Cammy would not get suspicious of. "Yea." Greg started, taking a deep breath. "Raven top, looks through amethyst, opposite me…God, please help me Nick!"

"_You got to calm down, Greg, we're going to help you." _It was now Grissom on the phone. _"I trust you. You're going to be fine, but you need to be patient, and stay safe."_

Greg felt himself nod, as if Grissom could see him. "Yeah…" Suddenly Greg felt the phone be plucked out of his grasp, and he saw it slide up the pipe once more. "_No_! Give it back…"

"No, Gregsy, enough of this pointless talking." Cammy spoke, "Give me that little whore now, or he'll feel pain like nothing else he's felt before."

Then, her disposition changed from threatening to one of venomous distaste. "Oh, there you are…hold on, let's let Greg in on this conversation…"

The phone dropped back down to him, and he picked it up. "Who's there?"

"_Greg? Oh, Greg…I'm so sorry this had to happen"_

"Sara?" Just hearing her voice on the other end made his heart throb. "Oh God Sar, don't be sorry, it's not your fault…"

"Lies, you bastard!" Cammy screamed to into the phone. "It's all your fault, you little slut."

"What did she do?" Greg asked.

"She tried to lure you away from me." Cammy said, distress lacing her voice. "Don't you remember, you were having breakfast with me, and she came, and you just _brushed _me off?"

"Who the hell are you!?" Greg cried, angrily and bitterly into the phone, as his questions regarded her haunted him.

"_Greg, calm down." _Sara said, her voice strained from trying to take her own advice. _"What's your name, miss?"_

Greg shut his mouth from saying all the things he wanted to say to Sara at that moment. He had to listen to her, and hope that she could use her position to help him. "Why's it matter to you, you little tart?" But, a second later, a resigned sigh sounded out her name. "Cammy."

"That's her pseudo name, Sara." Greg whispered.

"Shut up Greg!" Cammy screamed.

"_Shh, Cammy, calm down. I wasn't trying to steal Greg away from you. Where did you see us to breakfast?"_

"You walked into Frank's Diner just a few days ago…" Cammy whispered. "And when I saw how you and my Gregsy looked at each other…" She sobbed, "God, it tore my heart out." She paused, and Greg swore he heard a chuckle. "Which reminds me, Greg? You have a punishment to go through."

"_Wait!" _Sara's voice cut in. _"Wait Cammy…I still want to talk to you."_

"Sorry, _Sara_ dear," Cammy said, her voice low and menacing. "Here comes my little Cal, to help me punish Greg for his little affair."

"_No, Cammy, Greg didn't so anything…"_

Greg had meanwhile started to squirm listening in to the conversation. "Sorry Sara dearie," She repeated, "but Greg has to go now…"

Greg knew it was now or never as he felt pressure pulling on the phone. "Sara! Cal is actually the first name of the man, and I was drugged, the needle…"

Then, the phone was successfully plucked from his hands. Greg leaned back in his glass box, satisfied that he did all that he could have done. But he heard inaudible shrieks by Cammy to Sara. Then it went silent. Knowing she was that mad made the quiet unnerving to him, and he started to shiver again. He mentally kicked himself for not telling Sara everything on his mind about her. From the way Cammy had been talking, she was definitely planning something, and he wasn't sure if he would ever have another chance. **_"But then," _**He thought as his heart ached, **_"That would just make her more guilty."_**

"Oh Gregsy!" Her overly fake sweet tone called down to him. "Sara just won't leave us alone until I tell her where we are…but then she may come and try to take you away from me again!"

Greg tried playing her. "But I'd never leave you for her. And, if you're so worried about her finding us, why don't you just give her a clue?"

"Oh, Greg, a game! That's so clever!" She laughed, and made Greg want to throw his guts up. "But first," she said, "for both Sara and Gregsy, punishment. Sara, you should feel guilty; this is what your meddling has caused your lover."

Without warning, Greg felt something hit his stomach, burning him relentlessly. He screamed in pain as more and more of the boiling liquid came pouring onto him, until almost half of the glass tank was full. Greg writhed in pain, trying in vain to get even partway out of the water, but not succeeding. He could hardly manage to keep his head above water, and he felt his head swim, but he knew that if he fell under the spell of the sting now and blacked out he would surely drown. As the last of the water hit him, and his voice started to fail him, he still groaned in pain. The steam burned his eyes, making the lids heavy, an a mixture of sweat and condensed water beaded his brow. And what made the whole thing worse was that he knew Cammy was making Sara listen to his anguish.

Through the pain, he heard Cammy speaking again. "Oh, stop crying Sara. Listen up; Gregsy and I have a little game of hide and seek for you. Here's the first clue: We're still in Las Vegas, and we won't be leaving." She laughed maniacally."But there's a catch. Each time you ask for a clue, something happens to Greg, so you better be smart. Have fun Sara!"

And as Cammy laughed again, Greg started to sob, crying as his body became numb to everything, and for the first time in his ordeal, wished for the friendly lullaby of death to sing him to sleep.


	5. The Missing Piece

**00...Wow, when I have some spare time (and an Easter break) I can really write alot! This is a super long chapter, so sorry for some...and not sorry for others who actually like super long chapters...I'm free now for a whole week and a bit, so I should be able to motor-write some good chapters...I'm proud of this one:D I hope you enjoy it..it's pretty Sara-based, but Greg is coming up;)**

**Oh...and I've read it over a bazillion times, and every time I've found a mistake, I;ve replaced this chapter more times than I can count on one finger! Buuut...I'm a perfectionist (a fatal flaw) so, if you see a mistake, I'm not afraid to hear it...I encourage it...so please let me know, and enjoy;)**

**CHAPTER 5: THE MISSING PIECE**

Lily looked at Sara and truly feared the worst for her only son. The woman whom Greg had been ranting incessantly about ever since he had started working in the Las Vegas Crime Lab had been strong thus far, especially under the circumstances. While she had not been at her best composure, she had kept her own, and had remained calm, even when she was forced to speak on the phone with the woman who had started it all.

Lily had heard the screams of agony over the phone, more than a few meters away, and they chilled her to the bone to know that her son was the one who made them. Sara had then broken down into hysterics, while still listening to the anguished cries of her co-worker and best friend. Lily had been standing next to a chair, and fearing the worst, sat down and prepared herself.

She watched as Sara dropped the phone and, falling to her knees, continued to cry.

"Sara, please…" Catherine said, dropping next to her young colleague, "You have to try and calm down honey." Sara shook her head stubbornly, and continued to sob uncontrollably. "Sara, please…"

"For me, Sara." Lily spoke up from her spot in the back of the room, and she thanked the stars that Sara responded. She looked up at her best friend's mother, and then, seeing how strong Greg's mother was while her son was being tortured, while she should have the honour of mourning, saw how selfish she was.

Sara also realized that she was doing what she promised herself to not do. Give up on Greg.

Sara forced herself to her feet, and wiped the last of her salty tears from her red eyes. Her breath, though still shaky, was normalizing and she was starting to calm herself. "Atta girl, Sara." Nick encouraged.

"Sara, come on, we need to listen to the tape and note what we found out." Grissom said, taking the recorder he had set up and pressing play. She listened as she heard the voice that to her, sounded like nails on a chalkboard, the chilling voice of Greg's kidnapper.

"_If you don't get the bitch online now I swear he will die a drawn out painful death!"_ That was Greg she was talking about, as if he were nothing human at all. She could never understand the cruelty of the human race before, but now that she was the one who knew the victim, it confused her even more. It was sweet, innocent Greg, who wouldn't hurt anybody. And she did not understand herself what they had done wrong.

She heard Nick and Grissom's voice speaking with Greg, and she could hear the tearing of her heart as the pain and fright he felt came through his words. It was after she heard Greg's pleading to let him keep speaking that Grissom paused the tape. "Okay, Nick, what did Greg mean? Raven-head, opposite Greg…looks through amethyst?"

"Well, he was describing the kidnapper…opposite Greg, must mean she is definitely a 'she'. And raven top must be referring to her hair. What does look through amethyst mean?" He questioned.

They all thought for a moment, when Sara remembered when she and Greg had been talking one day about birthstones. "Amethyst is the birthstone for February…it's a purple gem. Her eyes must be purple."

"Excellent." Grissom said. "We have the beginnings of a physical description, and it means something positive about Greg as well."

"What's that?" Sara asked.

"It means Greg hasn't given up yet, and that he's still very much alive and thinking."

"**_You didn't hear his screams…" _**Sara said, but she immediately chided herself for thinking that way. She knew herself, she felt, his life somewhere in the world, and knew he was still alive.

Grissom turned around, and pressed play on his tape recorder once again, and the conversation resumed. Then it was Sara's turn to talk with Greg, and Cammy.

"_Sara? Oh God Sar, don't be sorry, it's not your fault…"_

"_Lies, you bastard! It's all your fault, you little slut."_

"_What did she do?"_

Grissom stopped the tape once more, and Sara thanked him silently for stopping where he did, because she feared she would break down once more. Grissom turned to her. "Sara, she knows you."

"I find that hard to understand." Sara said, taking in Grissom's face, which was once again void of emotion. "Because I don't know her. And Greg doesn't know her either."

"That doesn't matter. What does matter is that she knows you _and_ Greg, and that she saw you two together at Frank's diner in the past month." Grissom sighed. "That mean's that you could be in danger also."

"But I'm not." Sara hissed. "Greg is. So get to your point."

Grissom was getting sick of Sara's attitude, but let it slide. He could guess what she was feeling; she had mentored him into becoming a CSI, and guessed she had become close to him. He couldn't even fathom how she was truly feeling. "That means that you can probably remember who the girl is. Think back. When you were at Frank's diner, was anybody there with Greg at the booth?"

Sara shook her head.

"Was there anybody talking with him?"

"I can't remember Grissom!"

"Well you have to try harder for Greg, Sara."

Sara was getting frustrated again, but she locked her eyes shut, and tried to picture the scene. She had taken Greg up on a simple offer to breakfast at the diner after wrapping up a case, collecting evidence at the scene of a murder. She had walked into the store, her stomach rumbling at her, telling her that she was hungry, and that she was forgetting meals again. She took a quick look about the place, and spotted Greg, in a t-shirt and jeans, leaning back casually in his seat, talking to a person…

"Greg was talking to someone at the diner," Sara said, her mind still playing the memory motion picture of that day.

…Seeing only Greg, she never even bothering to notice the lady, the waitress, she just remembered. A waitress who, as she recalled, had been hanging around them for the past few days. As she approached, Greg caught sight of her and his kilowatt smile lit up. He ushered her over, completely ignoring the woman as she had done previous seconds ago. Greg ordered them both a meal, **_"Pancakes and juice," _**she remembered, and then started talking non-stop to her about how the case had some odd evidence. And for a while, she was completely engrossed in the conversation until…

"The waitress spilled my juice all over me, and completely soaked me. She said she was sorry, and then Greg took me home to change my clothes, but when I looked into her eyes, they were purple." Sara stopped dead in her tracks. "That was her?"

Brass nodded. "I think so. Did you catch a nametag?"

"Yea…yes I did." Sara answered quickly. "Jen…Janine! Her name was Janine, something…her last name wasn't included."

Brass grinned. "Awesome. Sophia, stay here in case one of the lab kids needs you. I need to check up on Janine at Frank's diner."

"I'm coming too." Sara added eagerly.

"No." Grissom firmly stated, picking up some folders.

Sara turned and burned holes in his head with her icy glower. "No way, why not?"

"You are in danger, no matter what you say, if the killer has such a grudge against you, and no way are you going to be getting yourself into something you cannot handle."

"But Griss…" Sara started to argue.

But Grissom had heard enough. He did not even reply to her as he left the room, appointing Warrick to accompany Brass. Sara stared incredulously after her boss until a hand touched her shoulder. Sara turned to face Catherine and Lily Sanders. "Come on Sar," Catherine said, "Let's take Mrs. Sanders to get some coffee in the break room."

Sara, still lost in her own thoughts and helplessness, allowed Catherine and Lily to lead her away, and silently.

* * *

What did physical pain feel like? That was Greg's only question now as he heard the soft waves of water splash against the sides of his glass tank, because he felt plenty of mental strife. He felt like a gold fish, suspended half in water and air, upside down and drowning, so near to the one sustaining thing he needed. 

Greg could hardly breathe.

The hot air and steam made him feel like her was trapped by fire, the flames consuming all the oxygen, creating new compounds that were useless to him, slowly attaching themselves to his blood, suffocating him slowly.

He wasn't in too much pain, given the circumstances. **_"Is that a good thing?" _**He asked himself as he felt another splash of water cascade over his neck. It wasn't boiling now; the skin not blistered and burned told him that. But the skin that knew pain only a few hours ago could no longer feel anything, only the general cooling that the water undertook.

He vaguely wondered if he had passed out from the pain, and if he had indeed died. Not for one second did he believe he could have survived the boiling water like that. But he had, and now he had other problems. He had to, somehow, someway, figure out two things.

How to help his friends find him if he ever got his hands around a phone again, and how to get topside again. Now that his body had stopped screaming at him, his mind could continue its wily plans.

But, for some reason, he found it harder than ever to concentrate. His thoughts constantly wavered, and always drifted like flotsam in the ocean, and he found them floating towards Sara. She had heard his screams, and now had the weight of guilt on her shoulders. She didn't deserve that, no way, because it was definitely not her fault. And the thought of her, crying at his misfortune, blaming herself, as he was sure she would, made him mad at Cammy. Madder than he could remember being at Hank for cheating on her, and that took a lot. He shook at the thought.

He downright hated her for that one fact. She would pay, and until he took his last breath he would make sure of it.

But for now, he was stuck, having to desperately try and keep his head above the water line in a very cramped space, all the while ignore the ache in his stomach for a decent meal. Between the rumbling and the dull gnawing sensation, he realized it had been a good twenty-four hours since he had a good bite to eat. But what was he supposed to do, call to Cammy and ask for something?

Guess so.

"**_I hate myself…" _**He thought as he shifted position once again. "Cammy!" He called her name, and it was then that he realized just how raspy his voice had become. He noticed that his throat was raw from the screaming he had done when the scalding water was poured on him.

It was a few minutes before anyone acknowledged his calls, and if he hadn't been so hungry, that would have been fine with him. "Gregsy?" Her voice called down to him, innocently enough that it seemed she didn't know what she had done. "You're awake?"

"You act like you're surprised." Greg said.

"I am." She said shocked. "Most of my ex boyfriends have never lasted past that."

Greg's eyes widened. "There were others?"

Greg heard a thoughtful sigh above her. "Yes, actually…five of them. I don't have very much luck with men."

"**_No wonder, you bitch." _**

"Well, I'm different." Greg said, buttering her up as much as he could without making him sicker than he was. "And I have a favour to ask you, Cammy."

"What do you want, Gregsy?" She asked. God Greg was finding that name annoying.

"Well, I've been here an awfully long time, and I was wondering if I could have something to eat."

He heard her giggle. "You want food? Well, all I have is an apple…"

"That'll do." Greg said eagerly.

She hummed in thought. "I don't know if I should give it to you…you _did _cheat on me…"

Greg was still not over how messed up this chick was. But his hunger was much more important than his ego and opinions. "But it was all her. She's a harlot, and she tried to seduce me, but you've shown me what I've done wrong." **_"Damn, I should get an Emmy for this performance."_**

"I somehow doubt it." Was her only reply. However, a second later Greg felt something hard hit him on one of the more burned spots of his tender tummy flesh, and he reached and grabbed the apple. An apple never looked so good in his whole life, and despite everything else, he tore into it.

After eating everything, including most of the core, he was satisfied with what he knew had to come next. Waiting for something else to happen. However much he wanted to believe otherwise, he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that things were far from over.

* * *

"It's my fault." Said a tiny voice from inside the break room. Catherine looked in awe at Sara, not believing her usually outspoken friend could have created such a meek sound. 

"You can't honestly believe her dear," Lily comforted her. "Besides the fact that she is not sane…" She temporary halted. "Greg wouldn't want you beating yourself up over it. He knows it's not your fault."

"That doesn't matter." Sara held the cup of coffee tightly in her hands, to keep them from shaking and also to warm them. All of a sudden she had become quite cold. "I should have noticed that she was acting weird. I'm a CSI, for Christ sakes!" She shuddered. She couldn't get his screams out of her head. "Could you go and try and help the investigation? I just need more time."

Catherine and Lily looked at each other, exchanging looks that Sara could not discern. She hated that. It almost allowed her to see how people felt around Grissom and herself. Wow.

"All right, hon." Lily said, as she started following Catherine. "But please, Sara. Don't beat yourself over this. And if you stubbornly decide to do so, remember that Greg isn't gone yet. We can still save him; we just need your help. So, please think about it." She sniffed, and followed Catherine the rest of the way out of the break room, leaving Sara to battle out everything in her head.

A very tedious task, considering there was a lot going on, and Sara's brainy CPU was fast starting to shut down.

Greg was missing, and the woman who took her was a crazed black-haired purple-eyed waitress that was working at Frank's diner. How had she not known? But she kicked that question out of her head. She had a male accomplice, whose first name was Cal. That was a good clue…except there were more than a few hundred thousand Cal's in Nevada alone. And they own a Sunfire. Once again, not an uncommon occurrence.

Sara sipped her coffee, her third in less than that many hours, and fought the desire to end all the thoughts in her head and just go to sleep. She had to find Greg…

Finding. Three definitions.

What Lily had said suddenly appeared in her head. Something about those words resonated with her, and something else along with it…something Greg had said…

"_Drugged…needle…"_

Was he trying to tell her something about what he was drugged with? If they found that, they could maybe trace it to whoever had taken Greg.

Sara, in an epiphany that made her smile in triumph, got up and raced for the door. She flipped her cell phone open, and dialled Sofia's number. "Meet me at the crime scene, I think we missed something."

* * *

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Catherine asked, as she, Sofia and Sara looked across the wind-swept remains of their burned crime scene. Scents of smoke and sulphur still permeated the air about them, making them wrinkle their noses in disdain. Sara had never been here yet, and now she was glad she had allowed Catherine to tag along. 

"Something Greg said to me made me think. And Lily, she told me the definition for finding…it struck something with me. Finding…to come upon something by chance, to obtain or locate through search and effort. to discover. I think we need to do a little more finding."

"Whatever you say." Catherine said. She knew Sara was on a mission, and when she was on a mission you dare not cross her. Besides, if Sara had anything that could lead her to Greg faster, she was all for it.

"Catherine," Sara called her over to the spot she hovered over and, pointing, asked, "What happened here?"

Catherine approached her, looking at the ground. She saw what remained of bloody handprints and some vomit. "This is where we believe that Greg collapsed after escaping the gas station. Those are his handprints in a mixture of blood from officer Rawst and the owner of the station, and his epithelia's were in the vomit."

Sara grimaced at the thought of Greg going through that, being sick and alone while so threatened. She knelt down and donned her gloves. She started to sift through the sands, letting it run through her fingers as she slowly and carefully dug through the ground. "Uh, Sara?" Catherine asked as she watched her female colleague dig in the grit like a two-year-old at the beach, "What are you looking for?"

"This." She replied, as she reached in the hole she had dug and pulled out a hypodermic needle, with a drop of liquid still inside it.

To say Catherine was stunned was an understatement. "Sara…" She started, her eyes wide in disbelief, "how did you…?"

"Woman's intuition, bond of friendship, I dunno," Sara said, as she bagged the needle with loving care, "But I know Greg hasn't given up, and neither will I. Come on, we have to analyze this."

* * *

However, things were about to take another interesting turn. As Sara left Hodges' lab, hope in her heart, she was approached by a very tired, irked looking Grissom. "Sara, come here." 

Sara wasn't about to have any of it. "Look Griss, I am Greg's friend also, I don't care if I'm involved, I just want him back."

"No. That can wait. Cammy is on the phone, and she wants you, and she says she has another clue."

Sara suddenly went pale. Cammy's threat was still vivid in her mind. _"Each time you ask for a clue, something happens to Greg, so you better be smart."_ But what would she do?

Find Greg. If Sara was ever to see Greg alive any more in her life, she would have to do whatever it takes, and hope he could handle whatever was thrown his way because of it.

"Where to?" She heard herself ask.

"A/V Lab…Archie's going to try and run a trace this time. Come on, she's waiting for you."

Sara felt like she was having an out of body experience as she followed Grissom down the hall towards the A/V Lab. Her feet walked without them telling them too, and she was acutely aware of the sounds and business about her. Lab Techs milled about her, performing tests and analyzing trace and scanning fingerprints. They had no idea what pain she was going through, especially what mental torture her last decision, however quick, had caused her.

In the way she rationalized it, she was causing Greg pain.

"_Sara!" _Greg's voice caught her attention, and she almost thought he was in the room until she saw that damn phone again. _"Sara, don't worry, this is not your fault…none of this is."_

"We can't talk about that right now, Greg." Sara said, her throat feeling constricted as she fought tears once more. She had never fought tears so much before in her life, nor had she ever wanted to cry so often. She paused. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"_I poured boiling water over him." _Cammy stated matter-of-factly. _"It was his initial punishment, but now that we've started this little game, I'm afraid he'll have to more."_

"Don't touch him, you little slut." Sara hissed intimidating. "Or I swear I will make you pay."

"_Sara…" _Greg started, but he was cut off.

"_Ooh, little man eater makes a threat? Too bad. We started a game, and we'll finish it. Besides," _She added with a seductive laugh, _"his screams of pain turn me on."_

"They call that sadism." Sara said, venom dripping from her words. She hoped to God that she was somehow poisoning her this very moment. "But what do you want? You said you had another clue?"

"_I do." _Cammy said. _"Are you sure you want to hear it? Remember, Gregsy gets another dish of demonic pain if you ask."_

Sara hesitated. She was starting to doubt herself on her decision again.

"_Just do it, Sar." _Greg said. Sara sniffed into the phone at the sound of his voice. She had just noticed how raspy and strained it sounded. How much screaming had he done when that sadistic witch poured hot water over him? What else had she done?

"_Don't cry Sara, I'll be fine. If you care about me, ask the question."_

"Oh Greg." Sara cried, her remorse overtaking her. "I'm sorry." She whispered, before adding in a stronger tone, "Give me another clue."

She heard Cammy laugh. "Alright, Sara, but pay attention because I'm saying this only once." She paused a while, **_"For dramatic effect, the whore," _**Sara thought, before, _"He's under the ground underground in a house, and season's in the name…"_

_Bang…bang…**SCREECH!!!**_

"_What the hell?" _Cammy screamed. Sara heard the noise too, through the phone, like someone was continuously dropping bowling balls near her head, and the resulting screech of harmonics. _"What are you doing Greg?"_

"_Sara, she's done this before!"_

Suddenly, it sounded like an earthquake on the other side of the phone, and Cammy slammed the phone on its receiver, making Sara jump in fright. _**"What the hell just happened?"**

* * *

_

**Ooh, what _DID _happen? Excited to find out? Just stay tuned to find out;)**


	6. You Think You're Safer

**Told ya I'd be speedy;) I'm at my sister's place, and since it's kinda boring here, I spend most of my time on the computer...ahh, sweet high speed! Anyways, I amy be a bit slower on the next part, depending on how the big strong men a.k.a. my dad, my brother-in-law and my other sister's boyfriend) do with the renovating of my married sister's house. Laminated flooring is so pretty:D Haha, buuut, enought rambling! Oh, and last night's episode of CSI was WIKID!!! I love Greg, and I think ihs James' family troubles if finally over, good for him, and the next episodes look to be very promising!)**

**And anyways, thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed the fic, you guys are superawesomefantastarrific (Yup, you guys are that great! lol)! And here is the next chapter, and I hope you keep enjoying my story.

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 6: YOU THINK YOU'RE SAFER**

To say the least, Greg was confused. That is, when he came too. The burns he had sustained now felt like someone was rubbing sand paper over him, the water not masking the sting.

Now why was that?

Greg couldn't bring himself to open his eyes yet. The sleep; however he had managed to fall asleep, just felt so good, that he didn't want to open his eyes. Not that he would see anything but darkness. But he realized the dangers of not being aware of his surroundings. He needed to know what was going on, but still, his eyes remained closed. Then a strange question hit him. **_"How the heck did I manage to fall asleep and not drown?"_**

This provoked Greg to remember. He found himself having these lapses of memory pretty often since this ordeal happened, and it wasn't that long ago that it started. He concentrated, and he found himself in a nightmare. One that was way too vivid…

**-------------------Memory---------------------**

The phone was dropped through the hole again, and hovered above him. Greg just looked at it, not wanting to move. He saw it wiggle a few times, like a fishing hook waiting for its unsuspecting prey. "Gregsy, why didn't you take the phone?"

"What if I don't want to take the call?" Greg snapped back. He was sick of this.

"But it's the Crime Lab again…they'll want to talk to you."

Greg eyed the phone warily. Then he remembered that he had information that may lead them to the killer. He took the phone. "Hello?"

"_Greg, buddy, you're…"_

"Shut up." Cammy said flatly to Nick. "We're only talking to Sara. Get her, or Greg dies. There's no shortage of water here, and Greg's already up to his neck…do you want to risk it?"

A pause. Then, _"We'll get Sara."_

"Good boy." Cammy started to hum a song to herself, annoying Greg to no end. Greg waited an eternity to hear someone answer the phone on the other end, an eternity that in reality was only a minute. He heard very controlled breathing on the end, and knew who it was. "Sara! Sara, don't worry, this is not your fault…none of this is."

"_We can't talk about that right now, Greg. Are you okay? What happened?"_

"I poured boiling water over him. It was his initial punishment, but now that we've started this little game, I'm afraid I'll have to punish him more."

"**_Christ." _**Greg was not in the mood, mentally or physically, to deal with more torture.

"_Don't touch him, you little slut. Or I swear I will make you pay."_

Greg really didn't expect that outburst. It actually sparked some motivation in him. Sara was still fighting for him, and by damn, he was going to get out of here alive. His plan started to form…

**------------------Back to Present------------------**

That's right! The fire in the words Sara had said had sparked an idea in Greg's head which had, he just noticed, started to throb painfully. Oh, now he remembered that plan. **_"Smart move, Greggo," _**He sarcastically scolded himself, **_"You nearly did yourself in!"_**

His plan now remained vividly in his head, like it had when it first appeared to him…

**--------------------Memory-----------------------------**

"Alright, Sara, but pay attention because I'm saying this only once. He's under the ground underground in a house, and season's in the name…" Cammy had given her clue to Sara. Now was the time for action, or face the consequences of Sara's asking for another clue. Greg had it in his head now, his new attitude. In the lab, it was a goofy persona to make the days go by faster, and put a smile on everyone's face, especially Sara. His field persona, the more serious, quiet type with the humorous charm that he hoped let Sara see he was getting more mature…he still needed work on that one.

His persona now was to do or die. Take chances. Be bold.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and his plan swung into action like his arm, crashing the phone receiver into walls of his glass enclosure. He let a yelp of displeasure go as the resonating sound went through his bones like a jackhammer, but he kept at it. He hit, and he hit, and he hit, losing count the amount of times he actually made the phone connect with the glass.

"What the hell?" Cammy screamed, her voice coming from both the phone and up above him through the pipe, "What are you doing Greg?"

"**_Oh shit." _**Greg had forgotten something. "Sara, she's done this before!" He said, stopping his attack on his surroundings only momentarily before resuming them. It was complete chaos. Greg felt the pressure against the phone cord as Cammy desperately tried to grab it from his hands, and the sound of phone hitting glass was starting to make his brain feel like exploding.

_Crrreeeeaaaaaak._

Greg heard the sound he had been waiting for, and he nearly wept in happiness that finally a plan of his had worked. The crack, as he felt it, was in the side to his right, and pretty low, because he felt the water level lower, and he was left, dripping wet.

It was the next sound that scared the hell out of him. The all-to familiar creak and crinkle of glass shattering.

"**_Wait. Maybe I didn't think this through."_** He heard more sounds and felt something like glitter fall on his face. He brought his hand to it, and winced when he felt something sting. Oh yeah, he was in a glass box _six feet underground_. **_"Oops. Slight miscalculation."_**

"Cammy, help!" Greg yelled, trying to stay as calm and still as he could. "The glass is cracking, and I'm going to be buried alive!"

He heard panicked breathing through the tube. "Oh, Gregsy, what did you do? Hold on…" He heard Cammy run upstairs, and left Greg to wait for death, or whatever sliver of hope he had of living. Waiting seemed to be what he did most in his life anyways. A few minutes later, he felt the weight of the world crashing down on him, and he knew no more...

**--------------------Back to Present-----------------------------**

Until now. Greg groaned as he shifted himself precariously. **_"Note to self; not the best idea to break the only thing keeping you from being suffocated by six feet of dirt." _**Shouldn't he be dead now, considering he was just buried in that much dirt? He would have suffocated, or be crushed. He wasn't, though, because he still felt worldly things. Anger at his kidnapper, fear at being so vulnerable, pain from his injuries, love for Sara. But where was he now?

And this was the question that provoked Greg to open his eyes. At first, he squinted. There was actually light around him. And after allowing his eyes to adjust, he opened them fully, and nearly fainted. He was in a fully furnished, romantic getaway like bedroom.

With a catch. This one had torturous weapons laying at its sides, and a crazed woman humming a catchy tune in the bathroom door, watching him hungrily.

* * *

"Oh, damn it!" Sara said, jumping back and dropping the phone in the process. 

All eyes in the room were trained on her. "What happened, Sara?" Nick asked.

Sara let out a groan of frustration as she tried to stop her racing heart and fast breathing. "Ugh, I just got another clue, and…I don't know what happened! There were these banging noises and then Janinne hung up. Greg was doing something, and I don't know!" She flung her hands up in the air.

"Hold it, Sara." Grissom said, trying to get everyone to remain calm, which was easier said than done. "Archie." He addressed the A/V Tech as he typed with mad precision and clicked the mouse every few seconds. "Did you get anything?"

His answer was Archie chucking his equipment halfway across the room. "No! Argh…how could she have completely avoided all phone tracing equipment?" He shook his head. "That's just not right, unless she has ant experience."

Nick growled. "She's way too unpredictable. Maybe she's a genius, maybe not, who knows?" He started pacing the room. "We don't know anything."

"Yes we do." Sara said. "She told me, '"He's under the ground underground in a house"'. Now, we know that he's underground, so, under the ground, underground…he was buried below ground in a basement or below ground level."

"Hmm..." Grissom muttered in thought. "That makes sense. Was there any more?"

"Yea." Sara tried to recollect the discussion.

"We can get the tape and play it…" Grissom offered, but Sara cut him off.

"No, that's all right. She said, '"Season's in the name"'. What does that mean?"

"Oh!" Warrick piped up, from where he leaned against the wall near Catherine. "Season's in the name…she said she was in Vegas, right? Summerlin. That's where she's too."

"Ahh, good job Warrick." Grissom said. He got his phone out, and started to dial Brass' number.

"Wait." Sara stopped him. "Greg said something too. When the noises started happening, he said she had done this before."

Grissom's expression went to extremely worried. "What?"

"That's what Greg said." Sara said. "Can we use that? Can we investigate other missing men that went missing in areas that Janine has worked?"

"Okay. This is bittersweet." Grissom went strictly business. "She's killed before. If we can find her pattern from other missing men we can attribute to her, then we may be able to find out how much time we have left, if any at all, Sara, you're right. But, it also means she knows what she's doing. She may be a few steps ahead of us."

Everyone nodded. Warrick however spoke up. "Boss, I never got to tell you what Brass and I found from Frank's diner. We questioned the employees, and said she had a husband."

"Cal?" Sara blurted out. Warrick nodded. "Cal is her husband? What the hell, then why is she looking for boyfriends? Why is he helping her?"

"Oh my." Lily said, sitting down. She had been standing there the whole time, an outsider, watching from the outside the investigation of her son. "Oh, Gregory, _være i sikkerheten (be in safety)._"

Sara, hearing the strange words and noticing the older woman's distress, looked to the team. "Work on that angle. I'll take Greg's mom. I want to talk to her some more."

Everyone nodded, and Sara led Greg's mom away. The cogs in Sara's head were starting to turn, she was forming a plan. **_"I just hope to God that Greg survived whatever happened to him the last time we spoke."

* * *

_**

Greg, now fully awake and aware, was watching the little psycho seductress who was still watching him warily. However, she just chuckled a bit and walked over to him. Greg tried to raise his arms in defence, or use his legs to kick or run, but he couldn't. He had just noticed that his arms were restrained, being tied to his sides by strips of fabric, so while he could move them slightly and flex them, he was still as vulnerable as ever.

"Get away from me…" Greg hissed, like a feral animal being cornered by a predator. "Stay away."

"Oh, Gregsy…" She cooed, coming along to him from the side of the bed, and perching herself on its side. "Don't try and push me away. We're going to be together for a long while, so be prepared."

Greg attempted to inch away from her. Finally in light, Greg could see just how bad his situation was. Cammy was a very fit, strong-looking woman, and her light purple eyes, which on any other circumstance Greg would find mystically appealing, were filled with a twinkle of malevolent sadism. He still wore the clothes he had on the day he was kidnapped, except they were damp and, as Greg finally noticed, covered in dirt. Only his vest was missing.

Greg turned his head away from her, fearing he would start to cry. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"To be with you, Greg, don't you see?" She said, taking his head in her hands and, ripping her nails into the tender flesh of his throat, turned his face towards hers. "That day, in the diner, when I saw you, I was smitten to say the least. Your tantalizing curls, your boyish charms, your humour, it was beautiful to just watch you. And when you spoke to me, you actually spoke _too _me, not to my chest, or my ass. You spoke to me like an equal, and I fell in love with you."

Greg was done with toying. "Listen, lady, you are warped. You have no idea what love is all about."

Cammy just kept smiling, bringing her hand to play with the curls at the nape of his neck, not even noticing Greg trying to pull away. "No. I know what love is. And as soon as I make you forget Sara, you'll love me back."

"Nothing." Greg said, his voice icy and strong. "Nothing, will _ever_ make me stop loving Sara." **_"Oh damn, what did I just say?"_**

Cammy was wondering the same thing. "What?" She stuttered, apparently at a loss for words. "What did you say?"

"**_Well, in too deep now." _**"You heard me. Sara is my one true love. Nothing will ever make me forget that. And I will never love you."

Greg did not like the look that Cammy was giving him, one of outrage and one on the break of hysterics. "What?!" She started chuckling nervously. "No. You will love me; I will make you love me. But first, we have to beat this notion that you love Sara out of her head." She got up then, ripping out some of the hair she had been winding around her fingers painfully and she stood in front of the bed. She seemed thoughtful, looking at him, watching him. His eyes were wide with fear for the unknown, his chest heaving with panicked breaths.

Waiting is always the worst part.

Then, she moved to his opposite side of him, to his left, and started preparing something on the side of the bed. She was out of Greg's limited sight, and to say he was scared was an understatement. She was muttering to herself, and he could only catch fragments of it.

The suddenly, she was crawling on the bed, her back arched, making her way seductively over to him. Greg wriggled, getting on his toes and crawling as far as he could to the headboard, but he was having trouble with the pain his burns caused him. She continued her approach, however, undeterred by Greg's obvious disdain for her, until she was straddling him at his hips. She started unbuttoning his shirt carefully.

"Don't touch me you slut." Greg said, trying to intimidate her but only sounding more helpless then he would like to believe himself to be.

"Greg, listen, if I'm ever to have a successful relationship with you, it needs to be…sensual. I love a physical connection. So, your shirt is coming off, at one time or another."

"Then why bury me in the first place?" Greg asked, not able to keep from asking. He gasped as her fingernail dug into a burned spot on his chest.

"I want a man who is not completely weak. If I want to dominate a man, I need him to be a challenge. You're only the first to ever escape from the glass grave."

Greg looked at her. How could she seem so relaxed after admitting to killing a man, or men, before? "I thought you said I was the second."

"To survive the hot water, yes. But he died after I made him pass out from nitrous oxide. He drowned, like the rest of them. You were pretty close to getting that too, but you managed to break the glass, and no way was I about to let you get buried without hearing you scream one more time. I'll be the cause of your death, not your own stupidity."

Greg, whose his face contorted in pain as she finally unclasped the last button, actually managed a laugh. "My stupidity got me out of that hell hole. So now I can see your face and see how ugly of a person you truly are."

For his cheekiness, Greg was awarded with a hard slap across the face, making it sting just as bad as his scorched skin. "We'll see where you think you're safer." Then, she produced a phone from behind her back. "After we talk with a familiar person."

* * *

**Sure, we all know who it is...but there's lots of...stuff, coming up! Haha, hope you all enjoyed, I'm off working on another chapter before the computer is dismantled and I'm forced to watch Easter specials out i the living room! Enjoy everyone;)**


	7. Bonds, Whips, Codes And Phone Calls

**Ahh, YES!!!!!!!! I'm finally allowed to post! For some reason, fanfiction was being a dummy and not letting me post...seriously, I don't know why, but a million inanimate things hate me, and always do this to me. But, in the time it wouldn't let me post, I have the whole thing basically completed. So, I'll be fairly fast posting the next few chapters. But, anyways, here ya go, chapter 7!**

**Oh...and for the sake of doing it...erhem...harrumph... "Attention folks, this is poor train speaking, no CSI or CBS affiliates aboard, just this computer...and this story, in which I am borrowing the CSI's." And now, all aboard all those readers, and enjoy the Finding express!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 7: BONDS, WHIPS, CODES AND PHONE CALLS**

"Thank you, dear." Lily said as Sara comforted her back in the comfortable break room chairs. "It's just, it's so hard to believe he'll be okay, knowing that he's going though all of this." She choked up. "I don't even know if he's alive anymore."

"He is." Sara said.

Lily stared at her, no, into her, through her eyes, searching. "How can you say that and be so confident. You truly believe it."

"I've said it before." Sara said, smiling a faint smile thinking of Greg, "If he were gone I'd know it. I'd feel it." Then Sara realized how fanciful that sounded. But she truly believed it. Love made you do some crazy things. **_"Love?"_**

Lily nodded, and mimicked her smile. "Thank you Sara, for having so much faith."

"For Greg." Sara said. "But, Lily, it's not over yet, and we're going to need more than faith to bring him back, I have an idea. What did you say back in the A/V Lab?"

Lily looked at her, and then realization dawned on her. "Oh dear, I spoke in Norwegian again. Sorry. It slips sometimes."

"No. That's good. Does Greg know it?"

Lily nodded, still trying to puzzle out what Sara was getting at. "Yes, he does, from the days he spent with my father. I also taught it to him."

"We can communicate with him using Norwegian. Janine won't know, and Greg will be able to communicate with us. We may find something out. But," Sara added, "For now we have to wait."

Lily agreed with her. Silence passed between the two, but not uncomfortably. Sara enjoyed the company of Lillian Sanders very much, and seemed like the mother she wished she knew, strong, independent, and caring. Greg definitely had her qualities. Everything about Greg he seemed to get from his mother. What did that mean for her?

Lily chuckled. "Did Gregory ever tell you the time he and his grandfather went fishing?"

Sara looked over at the woman, who was lost in memory. "No, he didn't."

She laughed again, a smile coming over her lips. "I'm not surprised. It's an embarrassing story, but he was only a tyke. It started when he was eight."

And for almost an hour, they talked about Greg. About his childhood, about his time in Las Vegas, and the women bonded. They shared laughs and tears. And then Sara realized something important. **_"I can't lose him."_**

"…Huh?" Sara murmured when she heard her cell phone ringing. She picked up the phone, flipping it open. "Sidle."

"_Sidle, eh? Sara Sidle. Nice ring."_

Sara went pale, her heart stopped, along with everything else. "How did you get my number? Where's Greg?"

"_Greg, Greg, Greg…you need to get over him, Sara Sidle. He's with me now, and he's about to forget about his love of you."_

Her comment, even if it was not credible coming from Janine, caught her off guard. "Lo-love?"

"_Oh, he didn't tell you? He told me. Now, I have to prepare his…punishment. I'll let him talk to you. Not like he could give me away. Have fun. You may as well get everything off your chests now; I'll never let you see him again. Alive, anyways."_

Sara stopped breathing momentarily. "No…what? Wait!"

"…_Oh, Sara, please…" _

"…Greg, are you okay?" She had to ask him, because she was not sure at all. His voice was not his own anymore. It was broken, afraid, void of the liveliness that usually emanated from Greg's aura.

"_She's crazy. She's done this before…all of them in that glass grave, but I got out, and I don't know what's going to happen next. The burns Sara…they really hurt, and I just want to see you again."_

"Shh…Greg, it's okay. Listen to me." Sara sighed frustrated. She wasn't sure if this would work, but this was their best chance at protecting Greg. She mouthed speedily to Lily that it was Greg on the other side of the phone. Lily's eyes went wide, but she nodded and started enunciating the Norwegian counterparts of what Sara said. Sara was still fuming, how had Janine even gotten her cell phone number? "Greg, vi skal snakke norsk for Ã¥ forvirre henne." (we will speak Norwegian to confuse her.) She could swear she heard Greg's jaw drop. "Er hun der?(Is she there?)

Greg seemed to recover quickly, however, hearing his native language. Sara never knew Norwegian, so that could only mean one thing._ "Er mamma der?"_(Is Mom there?)

"Yes she is Greg, and she's worried, but now's not the time. Er hun der?" (Is she there?) She repeated herself slowly.

"Nei, hun har nettopp gÃ¥tt ut, men hun skal komme tilbake med noe. Jeg er litt redd for hva det kan vÃ¦re." (No, she has just gone out, but she will come back with something. I am a bit scared about what that can be.) There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, but when he did speak again he spoke in English. _"After the last time we spoke, I wasn't sure if I would ever get to speak to you again."_

"What happened?"

"_I used the phone to break the glass…and then the dirt around me came down…and that's all I remember…"_

"Greg, you fool!" Sara yelled at him through the phone, as Lily watched her, trying desperately to understand what exactly was being said between them. "You could have killed yourself!"

"_Yeah, and drowning in a glass grave six feet underground is such an awesome way to go."_

Sara shook her head. At least his sarcastic humour hadn't fled him. "Greg, konsentrer deg! Hvor er du nÃ¥?" (Greg, focus. Where are you now?)

She heard him sigh. "Jeg erâ€¦ litt redd for det. Hun har bundet meg pÃ¥ senga si."(I'm a little scared by that. She has me tied up on her bed.)

Sara gagged. She swore she felt her blood stop coursing through her veins and start to boil. Her cheeks flushed as she imagined what position he was in at the hands of that…_slut!_

"Wh-what?" She spluttered, quite at a loss for any words. "Are you okay? Has she…"

"_No, not yet, but she's preparing for it. Sar, you have to help me…she's crazy!"_

"Calm down Greg." Sara was wracking her brain once more for something intelligible to say to him, either to calm him, reassure him that he would come out okay. She hoped to God that he would. But it was plain to see he wasn't able to escape. She was in complete control, and that was the fact that scared Sara. "Greg…Janine Crawley. That's her name. What else can you tell us about her?"

"_I…" _Greg was plainly struggling to think. _"I don't know, all I know is that she's done this before, and she gets off torturing people. Umm…" _Greg was searching about, grasping to find something to help her. _"Jeg er ikke underjordisk. Jeg kan se ut et vindu." _( I'm not in the underground. I can see out a window.)

Sara switched to Norwegian again. "Greg, hva kan du se? Noe kjent som vi kan..." (Greg, what can you see? Anything familiar that we can...)

Suddenly, Sara was assaulted with frantic threats. "Greg! What's happening, calm down, where…"

"_No…get away from me you whore…stay away! Sara…Sara, I love you! I love you!"_

"_Shut up, Greg. She is the reason you're in this position. Now, brace yourself hon…"

* * *

_

It was now or never. Cammy…or Janine, as Sara had addressed her, had entered the room with a long leather whip. "No…get away from me you whore…stay away! Sara…Sara, I love you! I love you!"

Janine, at hearing the words, looked at him, and her face went cold. "Shut up Greg. She is the reason you're in this position. Now, brace yourself hon." She stood on the bed, towering above him from his position on the bed, lying terrified and exposed on his back, and she raised her arm, bringing it down with brutal force. The leather zipped through the air, and connected with a spot on Greg's left chest, causing him to scream in pain. The spot where it had hit was now deep rouge.

"You _bitch!_" Greg panted, as he tried to regain his composure after the pain started to subside only slightly.

"Sara did that to you." Janine replied, looking at him with new eyes, one of lust and want. "And she did this." She brought the whip down again, striking him in a similar place as before, creating more pain than Greg would care to remember. He screamed once more, curding himself as he did so because he was trying so hard to keep strong for the woman on the other line, forced to hear him suffering.

"_Greg!" _It broke his heart. The phone was still laid next to his head, and he could hear her voice filled with fear for him. He never wanted to be the one to cause her this kind of anxiety. _"Greg, I didn't cause this, please believe me. I want you home, we're trying our best, please just hang on. I can't lose you."_

"Quiet, Sara!" Janine screamed as she lowered the whip down once more, and picked up the phone. "And no more clues! We've finished this game of hide and seek, and you lose."

"_No, please Janine, please give us Greg back! What you're doing is wrong."_

"In whose eyes?" Janine sneered. "You had an affair with an engaged man before, and I think that's the worst sin you can commit, even if it's not the law. Does Hank Pettigrew ring a bell?"

"Leave her alone Janine!" Greg screamed through the pain. He did not want Sara feeling the pain of the past, and he knew this was a sensitive spot for her. How the hell had she known? "Stop this!"

But Janine ignored him. Sara took all her attention. _"I didn't know he was engaged until the end. And how did you know about that?"_

"I know a lot of things. I overheard Greg and you speak at Frank's for a very long time." Greg was bewildered. How long had he been around this psycho? "But know this. You better hope you find him on your own skills as a CSI. We're through with this conversation. By tomorrow, Greg will be my lover, and he will have forgotten his love for Sara Sidle."

"_No! Janine no! Greg, Greg I lo-"_

Greg struggled against his restrains once more. "Damn it, woman! I'll never love anyone but Sara. So why can't you just stop this and accept it?"

"I can't give you up!" Janine said, fighting back tears. "You…you are so amazing." She started to crawl all over him, making him feel dirty as he tried in vain to escape. "Your skin, your hair, those deep eyes, filled with fear and contempt, the scars, the bleeding wounds that you withstood better than all of the other men I've had combined." She was now lying on him, almost in the horizontal position of where they first met, their chests and thighs lying together and her face only inches from his. "I want to eat you, and love you, and make you suffer for the rest of your life." Her voice was now a slow, seductive timbre that made Greg shiver, not in ecstasy, but fear. Then her lips connected with his, and he squirmed even more to break it.

However, with only a slight passing of her tongue over his lips, she leaned back. "Mmm…you even taste good, despite the dirt. Look at yourself." She went to the side once again, and placed a mirror in his face. Greg looked at the face of a stranger staring back at him, one with no pride, no fun, no life, whose eyes were drooping with fatigue and whose face was contorted in apprehension and pain. His face was covered in dirt. **_"I must have been completely buried. Someone dug me out."_**

"What have you done to me?" Greg asked her truthfully, scaring himself with his reflection as she lowered the mirror once more, placing it in its respective place. "I look so different."

"It is to be expected. You have to stop stressing yourself. Make yourself comfortable, since you'll be here for a while." Janine resumed her position on the bed; looming ominously over him, whip in hand. "Now, back to what we were doing before."

She brought her arm down once more, sending the hard leather belt lashing into his skin, making him gasp. Again, and again, and again, she would bring it whipping through the air to meet his already stinging skin. For almost an hour, she relentlessly punished him with the hard painful leather.

Greg, at first, bawled from the sheer pain of the switch, his voice echoing in the huge room. He cried for her to stop, and nearly fainted when he saw the first trickle of blood appear at a gash in his chest. The first of many places where his life fluid would pour from his body. Only one thing kept him from giving up completely. Sara's words. She was there for him, along with his mother and foster CSI family, she needed him, and he wasn't going to let her down.

His screams, slowly but surely, turned to rasped talking and then to hoarse whispers. Nonetheless, anyone who heard them would get shivers, hearing the undertones of a suffering man. And at the end, the only real noise was Janine's laughing and her constant taunts.

"Sara did this to you." Janine kept repeating this to Greg as she whipped him incessantly, not stopping. She repeated it again and again, and it took all of Greg's strength-more strength than he even knew he possessed-to resist its evil implications.

And, after the torture was over, Janine dismounted the bed. She walked over to the side of the man, broken and bleeding that lay restrained on her bed. Greg was a mess. His chest was not discernable through the smeared blood and hairline slashes and his forehead was beaded with sweat from the exertion of keeping awake. He had endured a lot, much more than any man at his age, one who was as sincere and caring as him, should have to go through. His arms lay limp at his sides, his muscles burned exhausted from hauling on his thick linen shackles, and his eyes were closed.

He wasn't asleep though. His groans told Janine that.

Greg wasn't acutely aware of very much however, as he was barely wavering on the line of awake and asleep. His vision swam, clouded like a murky pothole, and he fought to just say what was on his mind to Janine.

"I'm impressed." Janine said, seeing Greg's eyes flit back and forth underneath his thin eyelid. "I would have thought you long gone. You really are a one in a million."

Greg, through his now shallow breathing, could only gruffly croak. "How unlucky are my odds then?"

Janine sat down near his face, dipping a finger deep into one of the larger cuts like it was icing on a cake, making him gasp and whimper. She took up her finger, long nail dripping with blood, and she licked it. Greg opened his eyes to slits and, seeing that sight, whimpered again. "Why?"

"It turns me on. You have no idea how much will power it's taking me to resist making love to you now, but I have to wait. You need to make yourself more presentable."

Greg barked a sarcastic laugh. He opened his eyes further, just to look at her face. "I love Sara. I hate you, Janine, and you'll burn in hell, you sick little sl…"

But before he finished, Janine took a fist and solidly punched him in the jaw, successfully silencing him and sending him spiralling into unconsciousness. "Oh Greg, you'll learn with time. Get some rest. You'll need it for later." She almost sounded happy and excited.

It petrified Greg, and as he slid into nothingness, he forced his mind to think of Sara, and his reason for living through this demeaning, scarring experience. All he could do to console himself was to believe that Sara would find him, and save him.

* * *

Sara felt like drowning the world in her tears as she heard the click on the other end of her phone, Greg's shrieks bouncing inside her. But she had no tears left, only the bittersweet aftertaste in her mouth of hearing his words. He loved her, and she hadn't been able to tell him the same. 

This was all so frustrating! None of their efforts seemed to be working. They weren't able to learn anything specifically important from the phone calls, or even speaking in Norwegian to obfuscate what they were saying. It seemed hopeless. Hopelessness and despair; the thoughts anyone would have thought in this situation, but only passed across Sara's mind fleetingly. She refused to believe that this was how it was supposed to end. She needed to find Greg. No matter what. He deserved more than this.

Her decision was made then and there. Even if she had to put herself in danger, she would find him alive. Lily's words came to her head, a motivation if she ever heard one.

"_**Finding…through search and effort."**_

"Lily, Greg needs help fast so need to go. Please stay here."

"I want to help!" Lily begged, knowing she was going to be left out and left to feel helpless. "Isn't there any way I can help?"

Sara sympathized with Lily. When they were left with nothing at the beginning of the search, she felt helpless also, but Lily wasn't a CSI, and she may put herself in jeopardy. "Lily, Greg needs us to find him, and we're trained for this. You can pray for him. Greg needs all the prayers he can get if he's to be found alive. Can you do that?"

Lily still looked on with slight scepticism, but she nodded resolutely. "Of course. Sara, but, your phone call, shouldn't you alert the rest of the team?"

Sara was already off the hall however, marching towards the trace lab.

Lily looked at her, the woman who was pouring her heart and soul into the investigation of her son's kidnapping. She knew love when she saw it, and she knew that Sara would not give up yet. "Bring my boy home safely, Sara Sidle."

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**Now, I know, I'm evil, and yes, there's a different language. And I know, I'm a Canadian from a province that has it's own problems with speaking proper English (have you ever had a conversation with a rugged outport Newfie? Our accents are horrible, and we speak terribly fast, and it goes to our writing skills.). So, I had a translator! Everyone, applause for the writer Kegal, my wonderful translator who helped me with the Norwegian! This time I didn't use a cruddy online translator that gives me the wrong words! Claps, whistles of gratitude**

**Now, that being said, I may have copied and pasted wrong, so anything done wrong is my fault;) So blame me. Enjoy!**


	8. Cal

**For the sake of it, once more, don't own CSI, it's characters, or anything of the sort, only this cheap imitation of the characters and it's awesomeness.**

**Okay...lol, I know, I know, decoding European languages bad! Bad me! But cut me some slack, I tried. Haha, It's hard when you're as isolated as me! But I did my best, and it's Words fault!!! Blame the word processor, I tell you!!! Haha;)**

**But anyways, enough of my pointless blathering about word processors, here's the next chapter with the interesting title name. :O Ooh, and not to spoil anything, but THE CSI FINALE LOOKS AWESOME DEADLY!!!! Check it out in May;) and enjoy the next chapter of this story!

* * *

**

CHAPTER 8: CAL

When Greg awoke again, he was assaulted by his senses. His fingers were numb and cold from his wrists being tied, circulation shunted. His nose burned, the air aggravating his tired sore body with a medley of scents. His tongue tasted the metallic heat of blood, and he licked his dry lips with his sandpaper tongue. His eyes, though still heavy, were feeling more up to the task to keeping him visually aware of his surroundings. His hearing. His hearing was the sense that bewildered him, as he heard the lazy whispers of a song being sung near him. Then, he felt hands dab something to his face. They were not the hands of a woman.

Suddenly intensely awake, Greg recoiled from the touch like it was a deadly snake, and his eyes shot open, but he soon sunk back with the pain that coursed through his torso and out to his limbs and head, making him collapse, his muscles completely useless to him.

"I'm sorry." Said the voice that owned the hands. "I did not think you would be awake so soon."

Greg groaned in reply, and he looked at the face of the man he was at first led to believe was Officer Cal Echo. He watched as the man, who was fairly young also with black hair, but green eyes, dipped a washcloth into a bowl of water next to him. "Why did you say sorry for? If you were really sorry, you'd get me out of here."

The man chuckled, not unkindly. "I can't do that. Janine would be very upset withy me, and she is very fond of you." He scrubbed at Greg's cheek, still tender from where he had been slugged earlier, and he winced.

Greg was completely baffled by this man. "Why are you doing this, for her I mean. You must know this is wrong. You can stop this."

Cal smiled sadly. "I am bound to her. My name is Cal Platt, and I am married to Janine Crawly."

Greg was flabbergasted at that revelation. "What? You're married to her?" His surprise soon gave away to anger. "If that's the case, you should have stopped her from doing this before! You're her husband, and she's on a self-destructing path. What were you thinking?"

"Mr. Sanders, I believe that you do not know how I view marriage. I have been protecting my wife from being found out for all these years. I think I have been doing a good job." As the conversation became a little more personal and heated, Cal scrubbed the cloth harder against Greg's skin. "Why, what do you know about marriage?"

"It is about protection, but not like this. If she is married, why does she go and kidnap men? You not good enough in the sack?"

"It would be wise for you to not badmouth the person who has you tied to a bed." Cal replied to his brash comment. "Another purpose of a husband to his wife is to provide. And provide I do. My wife, she has a liking for the pain of others. So, when she finds men on her outings, she'll tell me who and where, and I'll go gather them for her, with her help. You were a special one, she wanted to be very much a part of your capture."

Greg flinched as Cal finished with his face, and started with his bloody chest. The lukewarm water felt refreshing, as it cooled his fire-like skin and cleansed him from the dirt and blood that had caked it, but still when the water hit the open wounds, he flinched. "You're fucking twisted."

"No. You see, I love my wife, and I give her whatever she wants. If that thing is you, so be it. She is a much more sensual person than I am."

"Yeah, that's what all the small ones say."

"Shut up, or I will have to make my wife very disappointed. I'm not unopposed to killing you."

Greg shut up then, resigned to letting Cal keep sponging the grime and blood off of his blistered skin. Greg wasn't feeling a million bucks by any means, but he was awake enough now that he would try once more to find a way out. He looked out the window, so see the sun once more starting its descent below the mountains and plains, allowing the moon to radiate its pale beauty upon the darkened Earth while she was adorned with chains of stars. From his position, he could not see the street below. Greg pulled on his arms once more, as numb as they were, and he strained his chest and shoulder to pull away.

Greg's shirt was now completely gone, and his chest was bared for the world to see. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to go without a shirt, heck; all he went around in his apartment was a pair of pants, or maybe just boxers if it were especially warm. In here though, in the plain sight of two very crazy people, he felt very naked. He now had an acute sense of how raped women must feel, forced to bare their most secret forms for a complete stranger, while a precious thing is stolen from them.

Raped. Hard to believe, but he was becoming more and more aware of what Janine had in mind. He was going to be one of the odd statistics. It wasn't very often at all that a man was the victim of a sexual attack, especially a grown one, and even more of a rare occurrence that the woman was the assaulter. It made him feel so helpless, a failure to the masculinity to which he was supposed to be born to as a male. All in all, it was shameful and embarrassing, and he didn't realize that he really had no control over it.

"You know, my wife has told me you have been very resisting to her advances, even with being threatened with death."

"Yeah, well, when you're in my position, you don't have much to lose."

Cal thoughtfully paused. "You love that other woman, don't you?"

Greg looked at him, his expression as stoic as Grissom's usually was. "Now why would I tell you that, when it is clearly none of your business?"

"That is my answer then." Cal replied. He continued to clean the cuts, Greg giving him the silent treatment. "Now come on, boy, we may as well have a civil conversation."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Then I will talk, and you may feel free to reply to me when you wish." Cal said, getting up and going to the bathroom to retrieve more water. "You should at least allow that courtesy to the man who saved your life. I was the one who dug you up."

Greg snorted. "You want a thank you card or something? Get a life."

"I do not expect one." Cal said. Greg heard running water and he took this time to fight the waves of pain, washing over him like the never ending lapping on a beach, and sit up. It gave him a better look of the place, if anything. He looked out the window through the fading light, and tried to identify where he was. He saw a few cars flit by on the street, oblivious to what was happening inside the seemingly innocent house that he was a prisoner in. As he sat, his blistered stomach fought with him every step of the way, and he groaned with the effort. But, it gave his arms a bit of a break, which he was thankful for.

The cool water now condensing on his skin from where Cal was cleaning him made Greg shiver, and combined with the heat emanating from his burns he felt feverish. He wished to God that he had some water to drink and stop the itchiness in his throat; his lips seemed to be contesting with the dryness of the Nevada desert itself. Ironic, in a morbid sense, that he was only a few hours ago nearly drowning in the stuff, and he hadn't felt the least bit thirsty. Now he felt like a raisin, shrivelled and completely void of water.

Greg cast a glance around the room. It was seriously creeping him out. In the pale light of a bedside table he could see unlit candles lined the shelved walls and potpourri scents filled the air. There was champagne in an ice bucket on the opposite bedside table. Any other day, any other situation, this was what would be going through his mind, except there was no fear, no hesitation, only the passion, outpouring of heartfelt feelings, and Sara with him through it all.

Sara. His eyes became teary at her thought. Would he ever see Sara again, and see her smile and laugh. Apparently, she never seemed to do that very much, but when Greg was around, all she ever seemed to do was laugh and smile. Would he ever have another chance to work with her, flirt with her, ask her out? He didn't know, but he wished he did.

"You are thinking of her now."

Greg looked up at Cal, coming near him with a new bowl of water and a new cloth. Greg shot daggers at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play me. I know that look. You are thinking of the woman, Sara, right?" Before Greg could ask how the hell he knew about her, he answered him. "Janine told me about how she was, 'a traitorous little slut.'"

"Do _not_ talk about her like that." Greg emphasized angrily.

But this only seemed to amuse Cal. "Making threats when you are tied up? You must really like her."

"I love her." **_"Oops." _**Greg let it slip by mistake, and he cursed himself for it.

"Janine will not be pleased."

"I don't give a damn about Janine." Greg said icily, watching Cal warily. "She is a twisted maniacal monster, and she'll burn in hell!"

"I doubt she'll like that either. But, if you don't learn to control your tongue, she'll certainly have her fun with you. Not that she won't make you suffer anyways. You want my advice?" Cal asked, looking at Greg with a genuine face, surprising him.

"You're not mocking me?" Greg asked back.

"No. Believe it or not, I'm not completely like my wife."

Cal was willing to give him advice, but what the hell good would that do? Greg considered his situation, while he looked out the window again. He forced his eyes, however tired they were, to train themselves to that little street sign on the intersection. And then, in a triumphant flash, he caught the words that were there. And likewise, another wily plan appeared in his minds eye. "I don't need advice, I need to make a deal." Greg said, looking at Cal.

Cal looked upon him with daring interested eyes. "You are a bold one, aren't you? What kind of deal are you proposing?"

"One phone call, just like the movies." Greg said, a last ditch plan forming in his head.

"Janine wouldn't like that…" Cal started, but Greg was not to be deterred.

"You love your wife, right? And would do anything for her, right? Well, I love someone too. Please," Greg pleaded, "let me speak to her for one last time."

* * *

"You are not serious?" Sara asked Hodges with a small smile. "Really?" 

"Yes, Sara, the stuff in the needle is ketamine, an anaesthetic. And as you know, it's used in hospitals for animals, and humans."

"Ahh, thanks Hodges." Sara thanked him distractedly as she was already making her way from the lab, leaving him very confused as how that was going to help get Sanders back. Sara briskly made her way to an empty lab with a computer, and seated herself down. Quickly scanning through all the hospital databases, she brought up all the places that use ketamine, and then their employee list. The directory was long, and she signed. It would take her forever to go through the names, and even then it was a long shot that he was here. Only the largest practices were on the list.

"Hey, Sara," Nick greeted as he walked in after her. "Hodges said you'd be in here."

"Not now Nick," Sara said, trying to scan through the names as fast as humanly possible. "I may have a lead."

"Yeah, Hodges told me about the needle's contents, and I…" He started to tell her, but Sara interrupted him.

"No, Nick, we don't have time. I'm looking through the Desert Palms Hospital employee records, and seeing if I can find a 'Cal'. And I feel like I'm the only one doing anything! The last time I spoke with Greg, that little slut had her tied to her bed, and she was doing something horrible to him, and…" She looked at Nick, who looked plain bewildered at her outburst. "Aren't you going to say something to _stop _me?"

"Sar, we're not in competition. We're all trying to get Greg back. And to do that we need to work together and share what we know. Hell, we wouldn't have known about your last conversation with Greg if Lily hadn't told us. The fact that he's not buried anymore is good, but now that she's closer to him, he may be in more danger."

"Nick, she's going to...ra-ra…seduce him if we don't find him in the next few hours, and she's a sadist, so who knows what shape Greg will be in if don't find him soon. And," She added with exasperation, "We have very little to go on."

"Not so Sara." Nick said, continuing when she looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "While you were on a one-man mission, we got another case. A small animal practice that deals with livestock called in to say some of their anaesthetics were stolen. Wanna guess the kind?"

"Ketamine." Sara said, catching on to what Nick was saying.

"Exactly. And the animal practice is up in Summerlin."

"Oh, that's it!" Sara said, jumping up from her seat. "But we don't know who stole the drugs. It's still an open case."

"Au contraire, Sara." Nick said, a smile getting wider and wider on his face. "The practice is small, and the owner said that this has happened before. He thinks one of his only employees did it, a man by the name of 'Cal Platt.'"

Sara looked at him. "Cal Platt…Cal Platt, as in the Cal we've been searching for! Do you have an address?"

"Not exactly, and the owner wasn't sure, but he says that he's seen Cal drive to a house in the vicinity of," He pulled out the map he had carried with him and showed her a block of houses, "here." He grabbed Sara's arm. "Come on Sara, let's go."

"Wait." Sara said, dragging on Nick who was making off with her arm. "Don't we need back-up, or a warrant?"

Nick looked incredulously at her. "This is the same Sara who blew up at the boss man?" Nick shook his head. "I already told Brass my theory, and he's attempting to get a warrant, but it may be too late for Greg by then. And let me honest, Greg means more than a crummy reprimand from Ecklie. Warrick is waiting for us in the car. Come on Sara, let's save Greg."

Sara nodded. First the case was going too slow, and with just one clue and it was going too fast. They were actually going to save Greg? Now? He would be back with her? "Let's go then."

* * *

**Are our young'un CSI's going to do something brash, bold, and probably unsafe? ...Maybe? Haha, you'll have to find out, won't ya? And yes, onyl like, two, three chapters left at the most. Like I've said, enjoy the reading! **


	9. Survival Of The Fittest

**Sniff urgh...dang, I think I'm getting the flu, after avoiding it since Novmber...oh well...and SCHOOL has started again? Sucky! The only thing that's awesome? I get to go to Waterloo this June because I got accepted to this Seminar thingy...sweet! First time in a plane and out-of-province!!! It's gonna be awesome! But, rambling once again...so, as a last minute thing, very slow, one last chapter, and enjoy this one!

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CHAPTER 9: SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

Greg was starting to get restless and fidgety. He constantly sat up and down, making sure he didn't forget the street name for the time that Cal would hopefully give him the phone. His whole body now felt the effects if being burned and then whipped. His whole back and stomach was red and blistered with open sores everywhere, and the sheets under him were irritating it even more. He couldn't keep his eyes from watering from the stinging that his body was doing.

What he was even more worried about was the warmth he felt all over his body, even though his shirt had long ago been shed. The blisters and gashes all over his body were starting to become infected, he was sure of it, but there was nothing he could do now.

Cal sat down next to Greg. "I am finished cleaning you up. Janine will be up momentarily. And as you asked, here." He placed a phone next to Greg's head. "I know which number you want. Janine told me Sara Sidle's number before. Only a few minutes. Janine can't find out, and if you try to tell her anything about who we are," He threatened, "Sara will get it."

Greg nodded, and managed to keep the disdain and disappointment and fear out of his eyes. He didn't think he would get saved in time anymore. All hope that he had had before was gone from his soul. Greg watched in silence as he saw Cal's fingers find out the numbers that were so familiar to him. He heard only two rings go in until he heard her angelic voice. _"Greg? Is that you?"_

"Sara, is my mom there?"

"_No, she isn't." _A pause, and then, _"Greg, forget that, just give me a different code."_

Greg nodded, but only Cal could see. "A bend at the tree and peasant." Greg looked at Cal, who was in turn giving him an odd look. He was suspicious, but Greg had gotten it out. Now he was going to say the only important thing left to him. "Sara, listen to me."

"_What is it Greg?" _

Greg chuckled. "Sara, you're probably not going to find me in time."

"_Greg, don't…"_

"No Sar, Janine's coming now. I don't know what's going to happen, but I don't think I'm going to come out of it alive."

"_No Greg, we'll find you, we're..."_

"Five more seconds." Cal whispered harshly.

"Sara, I love you, and I always have loved you and I'm sorry I missed our date." _Click._

Greg watched as Cal took the phone and shoved it in to his pocket. "I'm sorry. Now, I wish you luck. If you don't impress her, she'll probably slit your throat."

Greg didn't react. He was never surprised by what they said anymore, just resigned to his fate. He watched as the door opened, and Janine came in, and Cal walked out. She wore a tight matching sleek black panty and bra set that matched her hair. Her light purple eyes were blazing. She was confident, seductive, and ready for a good time. She had something in her hand, and Greg started to cower at her sight.

"What do you have in your hand?" Greg asked staring at it like a dog that had committed some bad deed against his master and awaited punishment.

"Oh calm down Gregory." Janine chided gently. "It's a lighter. I have to set the mood you know." And with that, she started to light the first of the candles that lined the room. They flickered, dancing playfully on the walls. She seemed to purr as she went from candle to candle, lighting them all with delicate slowness, paying attention to each one. Greg started to cry sullenly. All his romance and chivalrous ideas were starting to go down the drain, faster and faster. All these ideas he would have used to woo Sara with, to make the mood perfect. It was almost as if she knew his exact plans. And it sickened him. How he would ever pull off a romantic set-up again without ending up screaming and psychologically scared was beyond him.

Then it was zero hour. D-Day. The last candle was lit, and did its exotic dance with the rest of its candle brethren upon the wall, casting haunting shadows upon the room and its inhabitants. She turned to him. "Now or never, lover. Here I come."

She started to walk over, but then they both heard a disturbance downstairs, and the words that Greg started to cry for joy at.

* * *

Sara flicked her phone closed when she heard the other line go dead. But she wasn't upset this time. "Was that Greg?" Warrick asked, looking at Sara who was sat up front with Nick who drummed the steering wheel nervously in the driver's seat. 

Sara was smiling. "Yeah, it was."

"Well, what did he say? Is he okay?" Nick asked worriedly.

Sara nodded. "He told us where he was."

Nick looked out of the window of where the three of them were parked. The street was quiet, and nothing stirred. "Did he? Then, are we in the right place?"

Sara nodded. She in turn looked out the window to where Nick was staring at the dark evergreen coloured Sunfire car in the driveway of the house on the _very corner_ of _Palm Street and Pilgrim Avenue_. _**"**__**A bend at the tree and peasant," **_Sara grinned. _**"Good job, Greg." **_

Nick flipped open his cell phone, speed dialling his supervisor's number. "Grissom, it's Nick, we've found Greg, call Brass…the house on the corner of Palm Street and Pilgrim. We're going in." And with a hurried flourish, Nick closed his phone quickly.

Warrick and Sara looked at him surprised. "Griss ain't going to be happy about that, Nick." Warrick said.

"Who cares?" Nick said, hopping out of the crime scene vehicle. "Let's get Greg, come on!"

Sara and Warrick mimicked his actions, and brandishing their weapons followed him at running speed to the house. Upon getting to the door, Sara was about to knock, not knowing any other way to enter a locked house, but Nick and Warrick came up faster and had deftly barged the door open with their shoulders, making it swing wildly on its hinges.

* * *

_"LVPD, put your hands up!" _

"No!" Janine screamed, as she realized what was happening. She turned to Greg, her eyes deep set and blazing. "You!"

Greg smiled at her brazenly. "You underestimated me. I'm not just a weak and helpless male. And I think we've beaten you. Sara and me, and everyone I care about. And I hope you like jail. Maybe you'll find another lover there."

"No, no, no, no, no!" She said, starting to pace the room. "No. I've got to finish this. You've been my biggest challenge, and I want, no, need, to break you."

She raced over to the bed, jumping on Greg and knocking the wind out of him. She straddled him, smothering him in kisses that, as he was tied up, could not defend against. He felt her tongue against his now pounding carotid, flicking it and feeling the life and adrenaline course through him as he fought to get her off of him. Greg felt her hands travel hurriedly down his scorched chest towards his jeans button, but the door swinging open interrupted her wandering fingers. "Stop _right _there, Janine!"

"Sara!" Greg called, overwhelmingly grateful and joyful that she had come in time to save him from Janine and her foul desecration. "Sara, thank God…"

"You _bitch!_" Janine screamed, still with a leg on each side of Greg, making Sara's blood boil more and more by the second. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to be interrupted in the middle of making love?"

"What 'love'? Greg doesn't love you. You're a psychotic whore! Now," Sara said, poising her gun at Janine, "get off of him _now_, slowly."

Janine had other plans however. She pressed herself closer to Greg, making him wince as she pressed her skin into his own sore body. "No. I have to finish this. I have to. I…I love him, and he loves me too."

"Get off of me!" Greg yelled, squirming to sit up, and hopefully get her off. However, he was pinned fast. His strength was too diminished to do anything, and he realized this. No food, no water, in what had to be at least twenty-four hours, and brutal exhausting physical and mental torture. He looked over at Sara, who had her eyes trained on Janine, her gun aimed. Greg shook his head to regain his senses. Getting out of here was the most important issue now, and he would worry about possible future relationship complications later, when the time was appropriate. His hope was back and burning strong, now that Sara was by his side and here to rescue him. "I love Sara, and now that she's here, you may as well stop this craziness."

"He's right Janine," Sara said, "Stop this, and give up, and we can maybe make a deal with the DA."

"Lies!" Janine screamed. "You don't mean that, and it doesn't matter. You just want him for yourself. Can you tell me you don't love him?" Sara hesitated, not making a move, just keeping her gun poised at Greg. Her eyes only flitted to Greg once, but Janine caught it. "I thought so."

"Janine, it's over. Don't you realize that this is wrong?" Sara implored, but looking into Janine's eyes, Sara knew that she didn't.

Janine shook her head. "That's opening up a can of worms Sara." She began, taking her hands and rubbing it up and down Greg's chest, making both Greg and Sara sick. "What is right and wrong?"

"This is wrong." Greg said, but Janine would have none of this and she dug a fingernail into one of the existing gashes on his chest, making it bleed again and making him gasp.

Sara pointed her gun again. "I won't tell you again to get off of him, Janine!"

"No, just listen to me. Humour me." She added, letting her finger dabble in the pool of blood starting to form. "What is so wrong about what I do?"

Sara stared at her, incredulously. "For one, it's twisted beyond belief! You hurt others, and you hold them against their will."

Janine laughed. "That may be true, but it is for the better. A natural procession if you will."

"Come again?" Sara was getting pissed, but she wanted to wait, to see if, if she heard her out, she would obey and come quietly.

"In the natural world, the only drive of an animal is to survive. Survival of the fittest. Natural selection. Animals…they only mate with the strongest. They think of the future. Usually males will compete with each other for the affection of a female. Then once a winner is found, the strongest male will mate with a female of choice, and produce offspring. But, usually the female has no say in this. The strongest male will just choose the strongest female, and that's that. I, however, am a woman who knows what she wants, and what she needs, and I have the ambition to do something about it. I have ultimate control. I want to breed a strong child, which all our instincts tell us to do. I am strong, so all I need is a strong man, one who meets all my needs, as an animal," She took her hand and dragged it along Greg's torso, "and as an emotional, intelligent human. Gregsy seems to meet that criteria."

All Sara could do was stare at Janine, dumbfounded. This girl had more issues than she thought. "Is that what you really think?" Sara said, her voice extremely reproachful. "There is so much more to think about! In today's age, we can't do that! It's barbaric! Not to mention against the law."

"The law?" Janine scoffed. "What makes this law the right law? What about the rules that religion teach us?"

Greg spoke up again, despite what he got the last time he chose to do so. "I never saw you as religious." His tone was filled with sarcasm. He never felt in danger anymore, which he found odd. Maybe it was the fact that Sara had a gun pointed at them, but that was futile, if Janine never recognized it yet. She had herself too close-pressed to Greg for Sara to get a clear shot.

Janine ignored him, still talking fully with Sara. "It says nothing about, 'keeping someone against their own free will', in the commandments. But, it does have a little something about adultery."

Sara outwardly bristled. "I didn't know, and when I found out, I ended it."

"So you say."

"Listen you little bitch, you can't say anything, because you're the one who kidnaps men when she's _married_." Greg spat.

"My husband knows about this, he helps me, and besdies, Cal and I have an agreement. I love him, and he loves me, but he is not suitable for reproducing with me. He is not strong."

"You love him, and he loves you, that should be enough." Sara said, the anger in her voice. "Enough of this, get off of him not or I'll shoot!"

Janine never added to her plans, because past her brave façade, she was eyeing the gun Sara held with fear. She was stuck, backed into a corner. Then, as if a light bulb flashed above her head, she reached down to the bedside table and revealed the little butane lighter.

"Don't move Crawly!" Sara said, aiming the gun once more.

"No, you drop the gun." Janine said from on top of Greg, still holding the lighter high, like a trophy.

"Wh-why?" Greg asked, finding it troubling to breathe with the added weight of Janine situated on one spot on his chest. The fear gripping his lungs and heart weren't helping.

"Drop the lighter, Janine." Sara calmly suggested, though far from calm.

"Drop the gun." Janine repeated. "Or I blow the place up."

Sara and Greg froze. They looked from Janine to each other, and back again. Sara spoke first. "What do you mean?"

"Stupid skank." Janine said, shaking her head, "You know, blow upas in _explode_? God, and you're a CSI?" She paused, and then answered the question on the top of both Sara and Greg's tongues. "Under this bed, there's enough explosives to blow up the house, and certainly do enough damage to the three of us. All I have to do is let the sheets spark and it goes."

Janine laughed, but Sara was quite simply at a loss for words. Greg spoke this time, the danger representing itself to Sara too much to ignore despite his flagging strength. "You're bluffing."

"You want to take that chance?" Janine said, still hugging herself close to Greg. She laughed again. "Poor Sara Sidle can't shoot because she might hit poor Gregsy, and can't move because she may chance me blowing all of us to bits. What is she going to do?"

"What would you accomplish by blowing all of us to smithereens?" Greg shot back.

"Look, Greg, just look around you!" She said, gesturing with her unwieldy lighter. "She's here, and you're ready to leave me, like I said you would. You lied to me. For all I care, she can have you, but I was _sure _that with a bit of taming, you would have been mine. We could have had a wonderful child. I love you unconditionally." Sara gagged from the side. "But if I can't have you," She finished, "no one can. No one deserves you but me, no one is strong enough but me!"

"You don't own me, you can never have me like I'm some object." With a dry sob, he said unemotionally, "Sara, shoot."

"What? I can't Greg, she might…"

"Just _shoot _the gun, Sara. Kill this bitch."

"No Greg, I might miss!"

"Do it!" 

Janine was still laughing in Greg's ear, as she held up an arm and lit the lighter. "She won't shoot me Gregsy. Poor little Sara Sidle is too scared to shoot me. That's because I love you, and she doesn't love y-"

_Bang._

An ear-shattering blast as the bullet left the gun, an explosion of sound and force bounced around the room. Sara didn't even know whom she had hit. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she ran towards the bed. "…Greg?" She asked as she neared the bed, clapping out the tiny flame that the lighter spouted. She had been bluffing about the explosives. She hadn't expected anyone to find the house in time, or at all. And this fact would have frightened her if she could have been more scared. She pushed the body of Janine off of Greg, and only saw blood on his chest. "Oh, Greg, are you…?"

She reached out a hand and touched his smooth face, as she now openly cried. Nick appeared at the room door after hearing the gun shot, leaving Warrick to deal with Cal Platt, whom they had swiftly unarmed. The sight of Greg, tied up to the bed with Janine Crawly near him in supposedly sexy lingerie disgusted him, but as he inched nearer, the sight of Sara crying over his body covered in blood made him gag.

He came closer to the crying Sara, but instead of looking closer at Greg's face, his eyes closed and skin pale, he went to the malevolent raven-haired witch who was the cause of it all. Sara had pushed her onto the far side of the bed to look at Greg closer, but she obviously hadn't paid close attention. Janine was now on her back, facing the ceiling, light purple eyes staring lifelessly into oblivion, blood trickling down her body onto the down comforter that covered the bed.

"Sara, look!" Nick cried, tears of relief now escaping his eyes. Her head turned, and she caught sight of the bullet hole in her chest, and she turned her attention to Greg again while Nick called the paramedics. "Greg, come on Greggo, open those beautiful eyes for me, _please_ Greg!" She stroked his face encouragingly, her fingers tracing the light stubble that had appeared over the past two days since he had been taken.

As if in response to the stimuli of Sara, Greg's eyes fluttered open, and trained themselves on Sara. In a throaty croak, he asked her innocently, "Are you an angel?" He tried to smile a tired smile.

"Greg!" She cried as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him over and over. "I love you, Greg!"

Sara's affection filled attack made Greg's body shiver in pain, but he was too glad to have her in his arms…well, him in her arms. "I love you too Sara." He sniffed, and started to cry as the realization he was saved set in. "I love you Sara! Please…get me out of here."

Greg felt his left arms finally lower as Nick untied it from the bedpost. His shoulder ached, and the pain flooded his body. Sara had raised herself from Greg's body, and she looked deep into his mocha eyes. She knew unconsciousness was going to take him again, but it was a restful blackness he was returning to. He was safe, and he was looking somewhat…forward to waking up the next time, because he had a feeling Sara would be by his side. Sara saw his eyelids slowly close again, and she comfortingly entangled her fingers in his hair, not like Janine, but softly, tenderly. Her sweet smile invaded his dreams this time, and her parting words as well.

"I've found you."

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**Okay, I have one more chapter to go, dealing with the aftermath of the ordeal. So, alack and alas, my time of end is drawing nigh. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope to GOD the alerts start working soon again!**


	10. Finding

**A job well done if I do say so myself...and I do! Haha, I love this story! I loved writing it, and I loved the reviews I got, and I love you guys who read and enjoyed it! Thanks to everyone! Thanks to remoob1513 for the idea, and to Kegal for the translations, I appreciate it everyone;) And with that, I say, 'I wish the alerts worked'...oops, no, I mean, 'This is the last chapter'. I hope you like it, I think it wraps everything up quite nicely. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

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CHAPTER 10: FINDING

_...Beep…beep…beep…_

"Stupid alarm…" Greg mumbled from his bed as he lounged lazily on it, within the warm hugging covers. He was on his back, and when he rolled on to his stomach to shut off the clock alarm, which obnoxiously chose to alarm every night at seven like it had a mind of its own, he brushed his chest and stomach against the sheets and irritated the old scabs once more. He scratched it consciously, not caring about the doctor's orders. He just wanted to get back to work next week, and maybe get back to a routine. _**"Oh wow," **_He thought bitterly, _**"More paperwork probably. I suppose that's what I deserve for messing up my first and only solo case."**_

Bitter is what he had become in the last week or so since his abduction. Or maybe bitter wasn't he right word. Maybe resentful was a better word, resentful of his capture, of his treatment, of himself for being too weak to do anything about it and for even thinking about the whole ordeal, since Janine was dead and Cal was in jail. He sighed. Resentment was definitely what he was feeling.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, his face had returned to being not so pale, only the faint tracings of bruises remained on his jaw. His eyes scared him. They seemed almost black, and lifeless. He missed feeling lively, having youthful vigour. He must have aged five years in under a week and had been lazy ever since he had returned to his apartment. He had spent two days in the hospital for assessment, and treatments for his burns, and more for the larger gashes Janine had left on his chest, and the resulting infections. The memory caused him to smile slightly; Sara had been there when he woke up, as he had predicted, but they never really had a chance to talk, with his mom there, and the police questioning him. She had also seemed…withdrawn. Thoughtful maybe.

And he hadn't even seen her since then. He snorted. Grissom had her working like a dog, as usual, and hadn't allowed her any time to do anything but sleep and work. Catherine had been over, the day after his mom left a few days ago, with a delicious casserole. Catherine, his second mom, he loved her dearly. Their playful talk at work always made him happier. Would he ever joke again? Nick had been over too, with Warrick, for a little manly chat about video games and Warrick's wife problems.

He snorted in ironic laughter. Manly? Yeah right. He couldn't be manly if he tried. He had been pushed around by, who? A petite crazy woman who weighed about a hundred pounds? Pssh…what a joke. He flexed his arm in the mirror. Pathetic. He hung his head, shaking it, and stripped to get in the shower.

After letting the warm water cascade over his body for fifteen relaxing minutes, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower into the steam filled room. He was thankful; the steam made sure he didn't have to look in the mirror at himself. He used the towel to absorb the tiny collected droplets on his shoulders and chest, which still stung when the water and towel hit it, and then wrapped it about his waist. He exited the bathroom, steam trailing him like a foggy cloak out into the hall. Greg heard something down the hall of his apartment, and, a little jumpily, he looked down and stopped in his tracks.

"Hey Greg." Sara greeted cheerily as she stood in front of his apartment door. Her cheeks were pink from the unusually cold and windy Las Vegas night, but her russet eyes were sparkling. Greg just stared at her. "Umm…" She looked around, starting to become uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Can I come in?"

This knocked Greg out of his stupor. "Oh…oh yeah, sure, just make yourself comfortable in the kitchen, I have to get dressed, if you, haven't noticed…"

"Oh." Sara said, acting as if she had just noticed he was only in a towel. "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Greg nodded, and like lightning ducked into his room. He heard the click of his lock, and then started to curse himself. _**"What the hell was that, Sanders?"**_ He thought to himself, anger channelling through him. Any other time, _any other situation_, he would be all over this. Sara was in his house, and one of them was basically naked. Can you ask for a better scenario? Greg sighed, getting dressed. He knew what was the matter, but if he didn't get his act together, someone else would discover that he wasn't right, and pry into it. He didn't want that.

He exited his room once more, clad in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He came into the kitchen where Sara was already at work. She had the coffee starting to brew, and was making sandwiches. "Someone's made herself very much at home I see," He said with a grin.

Sara looked up and smiled also. "I figured you were hungry, and it's my night off, so…" She looked him over carefully. "You look like you've lost weight."

Greg was taken aback by that statement. Had Sara seen through his façade so quickly? No way. "Maybe a little." He replied a little awkwardly. "I haven't exactly gotten back on an exact schedule."

Sara placed a slice of bread on the last sandwich, and took them and the coffee she had just poured to the small kitchen table. She motioned for him to sit in silence with her, and as he did so, she sighed. He looked at her intrigued, but she never returned his gaze. "You've got to talk to someone, you know."

This took Greg not only by surprise, but made him confused and offended. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't take it wrong, Greg, but…you just went through a horrible ordeal, and I know for a fact that you haven't mentioned it to anyone. Not Catherine, not Warrick or Nick, not your own mom. And I feel that you should for your own sake."

Greg was suddenly not hungry. "Well, that's one person's opinion. What, did Grissom send you?"

Sara looked at him now, but her expression made Greg turn his head. "No, Greg. Grissom can't offer you what I can. A friendly ear, as I am one of your best friends. I'm worried about you, and want to help you. I know what it's like."

Greg looked at her, feeling both bitter and challenging. "You know what it's like? You think you have any idea what I went through?" He looked away, at once calming down. He chanced a glance at Sara, and saw the hurt in her eyes. _**"Geez Sanders, nice move. You're so manly you're fighting with your best friend who is genuinely concerned and offering to help you."**_ "I'm sorry."

Sara took her hand and laid it on Greg's. "Eat, and then tell me about it?" It was more of a question then a statement, but Greg obliged, his hunger returning and becoming noticable to him once he took a sip of his coffee. He hadn't been eating normally, or really taking care of himself since he had returned home. He was too busy thinking over the ordeal, and beating himself up about not being able to defend himself.

He made a crack about her finding his secret stash of Blue Hawaiian after tasting the familiar rich coffee, and she laughed, and the conversation eased into innocent chatter until only crumbs remained of the food and all the coffee had been drained from the bottom of their mugs. The room tensed again. Sara was the first one to stand, taking Greg's hand with it.

Greg exhaled and he stood with her, leading her to the living room where they could relax on the cushions of the large couch. Sara had to say, she was impressed. The place was immaculate, and organized perfectly. The colours weren't bad either, not loud nor abhorrent, just a soft mahogany that gave the place a comforting feeling. She and Greg sat on the couch, both turned to face each other slightly.

"Greg…" Sara started, knowing that he wouldn't, "Are you okay?"

"That's an odd question." Greg dodged, not wanting to talk about this at all.

"No, I don't think it is." Sara said, "Everyone's come to me, and they're worried. Catherine, Nick, and Warrick all said that you seemed out of it, and your mom said so too before she left. And you know no one knows you like your mother knows you."

"When were you talking with mom?" Greg asked her, once again dodging.

Sara held up a house key, one that was identical to the one Greg owned. "She gave this to me before she left. It's how I got in to your apartment, in case you were wondering. We've been keeping in touch; she's a wonderful woman. I like her a lot."

"Yeah." Greg said, reclining a bit in his seat. "She's great. I'm going to miss her."

"Yeah." Sara said, taking her legs and curling them underneath her. She took a breath. Greg looked at her expectantly. He knew it was coming. "Greg…about what happened to you…"

"I'd rather not talk about it." Greg said almost before the words came out of her mouth, surprising both he and Sara with the quavering tone of breaking they took on.

"Believe it or not, it will make you feel better, please," Sara coaxed, "trust me?"

Greg looked to her. His eyes were watering, and he was fighting his feelings. He was bottling them inside, and had been since the abduction, and even if only for a week, it was almost more than he could take. "How do you know?"

Sara gave a knowing, albeit, sad smile. "If I tell you my darkest secret, will you open up to me? An eye for an eye, we'll both have something on each other." Greg nodded, very intrigued by Sara's proposal. Sara exhaled deeply, and started. "It's funny the things you remember. I remember the woman from child services taking me to this large building. I was so young. I remember the smell."

"You were in foster care." Greg said, remembering her saying so before. "You never told me why."

Sara nodded. "I never told you, or anyone, for a reason."

"You told Grissom."

"I would have lost my job otherwise. I was vulnerable, and that may be the only other reason why I told him. He doesn't understand. I think you might." She took a deep breath, preparing herself to reveal the horrible tale. The repulsive story of how Laura Sidle stabbed her abusive husband, Sara's father, would never leave his mind. The graphic images that Sara riddled off from memory scared and sickened him. How a little girl could grow up with that stigma, and the questions that came attached, hanging over her head was beyond him, and yet, that girl was now the woman sitting in front of him, trying hard to keep herself from losing her composure, attempting to help him with his own problems. She was more amazing then he had ever thought before, much stronger than he was. He felt guilty about not being able to trust her before. Guilty and more resentful.

"…And that's my deep dark secret." She finished, her voice quivering. She looked up at Greg, his eyes watering along with hers, but showing all the understanding she needed that words couldn't express. She sniffed, her resolve breaking with guilt. "I shouldn't have told you that story."

Greg immediately took his hands and placed them on her shoulders, stroking the bare skin with his thumbs, warming them. "Why's that?"

"Because you have enough to deal with, without me adding to your troubles."

Greg hesitated. "It's no trouble." He paused again. "I failed."

Sara looked at him. His eyes were closed, but he seemed troubled. "What?"

"I failed Sara, plain and simple. It was my first solo case, and I failed it miserably. I ended up becoming another victim. There were a million things I could have done to prevent this. And worst of all? I nearly got killed and _raped_ by a crazed psychotic woman, and what did I do? Nothing, and do you want to know why that is? It's because I'm weak."

During his confession, he had become worked up, breathing hard and raising his voice. His last words were whispers as tears streamed silently down his cheeks.

Sara watched this with complete awe. She took a thumb and gently stroked the tears away. "How can you even think that you're weak?" She said softly, so tenderly it made more tears stream down Greg's face. "You went through more with her and Cal then anyone should have to go through, especially someone as kind and sweet as you. And you came out alive."

"I shouldn't have gone through it," Greg whispered harshly, more to himself than Sara, "because I should have been able to fight back. I should have overpowered them."

"Two on one? Cal wasn't a ninety-pound weakling Greg, I doubt even Nick or Warrick alone could have taken both him and Janine on, and remember that you were drugged. You did manage to escape them, but with the drugs in your system? There was just no way you could escape them completely."

Greg nodded, as if realizing she was right all along, and that he was being way to hard on himself. However, she continued. "Strength doesn't mean brute force, Greg. You managed to beat them in the end, don't you see? You outwitted them, and managed to stay alive through their torture until we could save you. Don't you see how strong that makes you?"

Greg nodded again, and looked up, his tears finally stopping, but when he looked up at Sara, he could see she was crying now, her cheeks wet with salty drops of water. It immediately made him guilty again. "Oh Sara, come on, don't cry, I'm all right now."

Sara shook her head. "You don't know how scared I was Greg." She flung herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around him like a child. Greg was bewildered, but tried to calm her down. "When I found out her plans, I was just _so _terrified. I thought I was going to lose you, and I just couldn't go through that."

"But you didn't lose me." He said quietly. "You found me. And I'm right here, and I'll never leave you again."

Sara slowly stopped her hysterical sobbing, enough to sit upright again. She looked at Greg, eye to eye. "I found you." She formed the words slowly, letting them slide off her tongue as if not realizing what the words meant. She repeated herself, her voice stronger now, as she understood what the words truly intended. She wrapped her arms around Greg's neck, and his around her waist, as their lips met. Softly at first, but passion overtook rationality and their kiss deepened to something wonderful and as expressive as words could ever hope to be. They broke their kiss only moments later though, and they looked at each other. Their eyes spoke for them, as actions so often speak louder than words.

"_I'm not ready for that yet. Not now."_ Greg's eyes spoke to hers.

"_Not now."_ Sara's eyes agreed.

"So…um…" Greg started awkwardly, "you were right, about feeling better after telling someone. It's not quite so bothersome now."

"Yeah." Sara said, her arms slowly lifting from his neck as she felt his grip loosen from around her waist. "So, I'm glad I could help make you feel better. Umm, I better get going…"

"Sara." He said, voice pleading. She stopped herself from rising from the couch. "Can you…stay? For the night I mean. Just this once?"

Sara smiled at him. "Sure." Greg returned her smile with one of his kilowatt grins, and his eyes lit up which made her laugh. It was genuine this time. She was afraid that she would never see that charming boyish smile or those lively eyes again, but seeing it now reassured her. Everything would be all right in the end.

"We'll just watch a movie until we get tired." Greg said, hopping up to grab his movie collection. "Your choice."

Sara laughed again, looking at the wide variety of movies. "I think…this one." She chose a DVD case that had a man and a woman on it. "Oh…The Notebook?" She questioned when she realized what she picked. "You have The Notebook?" She grinned.

"Hey, it's a great movie." Greg said as he took it up and put it into the player. "Great chick flick for the ladies."

"Yeah, sure." Sara said, not sure if she was treading on thin ice. She had just heard Greg question his own masculinity, and wanted to try and keep off the territory of, 'going to far'. However, she deemed that normality was what Greg needed, and so their playful banter would be the best thing.

Greg noticed her hesitation, and realized why, but he appreciated her attempt at their normal talk. He realized she was right, and with time, the scars would fade from his body and soul, and his life would return to normalcy. This was the best way to do it. He smiled as he plopped down next to her. Only a few minutes into the movie, he put his hand around her shoulder hesitatingly, as if questioning it, but she grabbed his hand and pulled it down to fully rest on her shoulder, giving him permission. Quarter way through, Greg settled down in the crook between the arm and back of the couch, with Sara settling onto his chest. Halfway through, they were lying down completely, their eyelids growing heavy. And as the final credits rolled, Greg was fast asleep, the first peaceful sleep in a week, with Sara close to joining him.

However, Sara was deep in thought. She wasn't worried about Greg anymore. After hearing his problems, allowing him to get them off his chest, she was sure he would be fine with time, just as she was. He was strong enough to get through this, and she would help.

No. Her thoughts were drawn to his mother, Lillian Sanders. Sara smiled as she thought more and more about it. Had Lily known this was going to happen? She had given Sara his house key, and told her to 'get him to open up'. Lily had talked with Sara the whole while she was in Las Vegas about Greg as a child. They had bonded. So, the question was still out there. _**"Did Lily know we would start…this?" **_Then another question popped into her head. _**"Had she wanted this to happen all along?"**_

She heard a small snore escape from Greg's lips, causing her to smile and giggle slightly. Her head rose and fell with his breaths from where she lay on his chest, and she heard the consistency of his heartbeat. It made her feel safe, to feel and hear these signs of life, strong within his body. She was pretty convinced that Lily had wanted this all along. Silently, she thanked the stars that Lily had come to Las Vegas and as bad as everything was, she had to thank God that this whole ordeal happened. She had to think, if this hadn't happened, would I have ever gotten with Greg?

It was too horrible a thought to even think about, so she let her thoughts drift like flotsam on a river to Lily once more. Her thoughts still resounded in her mind. Sara let the words escape on her breath, soft and feather light. "Finding…"

_There are many definitions for finding. One is the coming upon of something by chance. Another is to obtain or locate through search and effort. The last is to discover._

Sara smiled, and closed her eyes. Lily was truly a wise woman. She finally understood the intricacies of that word and its definitions.

Janine Crawly had found Greg by chance. She had found all of her victims by chance. Then, Sara and the whole team had found Greg through much search and effort. Greg had put in his own effort. Without his clues, she would never have found him in time. Then there was the last definition, to discover. She heard Greg snore underneath her again, and she smiled in response. She reached up and pulled the blanket that was draped haphazardly over the top if the couch onto their forms. She snuggled into the blanket and into Greg, kissing him on the forehead, and then on his lips, savouring his unique taste, and whispering 'I love you' into them. He was with her now, and she was happy beyond belief. She had definitely discovered something wonderful.

**The End**

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**I hope you enjoyed reading 'Finding' everyone, as much as I enjoyed writing it. There you go, that's the end. So, that's all I guess. I hope you enjoy, once again. Until my next story, so long;)**


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